


Love Undercover

by LoudenSwainfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bartender Dean, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Claustrophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More fluff than I planned, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Past parental figure abuse, Rimming, Tags May Change, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Undercover Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 93,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoudenSwainfangirl/pseuds/LoudenSwainfangirl
Summary: Dean is an undercover police officer on his first case.Castiel's apparent hatred towards Dean may not be what meets the eye.Cas' past may be clouding his present but it doesn't take Dean long to coax the sun to shine, creating a path into a future for the both of them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first full length Destiel story. It is also my first time posting a WIP.

“What'll it be?" the bartender asks as he throws down a cocktail napkin with one hand and whips a towel onto his shoulder with the other.

Dean's worn leather jacket crinkles lightly as he lifts his arms up to rest on the bar. "I'll take whatever you have on tap. Surprise me," he adds with a smirk.

The bartender, a man of average height with a narrow face and dark brown hair, reaches under the bar and grabs a glass. He glances up at Dean as he pulls the ale. "Long day?" he asks as he watches Dean scrub a hand down his face. He sets the tall, frosted glass onto the cocktail napkin and grabs Dean's $10 bill off the counter.

Dean gives him a slight nod as he sets his change next to his glass. He shrugs his shoulder. "Yes," he simply states as he takes a long drink.

The bartender leans against the opposite counter, arms crossed, watching Dean with a neutral face. The show of a seasoned barkeep.

"Mmm," he says "that hits the spot." Once again, he nods his head in gratitude when a basket of pretzels is set down in front of him. "Thanks, I haven't eaten a damn thing all day." He continues to munch, speaking around the pretzel. "I just moved in up the road," he gestures over his shoulder. "Moving is such a pain in the ass."

"Can't say I disagree with you on that one. I've never seen you in here before, must not be local." The musical notes of Ireland lilting with the man’s words.

"Nope. Originally, I'm from Kansas."

The man lets out a puff of laughter. "Chicago certainly isn't Kansas. What brings you here? Running to or running from someone?"

Dean's face goes slack as he studies the pretzel clutched in his fingertips. "From, I guess you could say," he answers quietly. He pops the pretzel into his mouth, a ghost of a smile returning to his face. He rubs the back of his neck. "Man, you don't want to hear my sob story. I know from experience how old that can get."

Before he can continue, a movement to his left catches his eye. A broad chested man wearing an old fisherman's cap and a wool navy pea coat stumbles over to the stunning blonde woman. She's sipping a glass of white wine, six stools down from Dean. "Heya Beautiful," he drawls, "did it hurt?" He doesn't wait for a reply nor does he take heed of the way her body language is screaming at him to back off. She leans further away as he brings his face down close to hers. "Did it hurt when ya fell from heaven?"

Dean groans loudly. "Drunk and unoriginal, good luck buddy." He picks up his beer as the woman places a hand on the bearded man's chest.

"If you don't mind, I'm here to enjoy my wine before heading home. I'm really not in the mood for company."

"Oh, well give me a few minutes and I bet I could lighten your mood." He continues to move towards her face as she pushes back with her hand, leaning her body farther from him.

"OK," Dean cries, hopping off his stool. He places a firm hand on the bearded man's shoulder and gives him a gentle nudge, forcing him to take a few steps away from the woman. "How about we call you a cab, buddy. I think it may be time for you to take a breather."

"Ah, come on Brother. Help me out, I was just looking for a little conversation with a pretty gal."

Dean subtly guides the man towards one of the booths tucked along the back wall. "I know, I get that, Man, I really do." He pulls out his cell phone from his inside coat pocket. "Clearly she isn't looking for company tonight. Let me call you a cab. I hate to see a stud, such as yourself, letting all his best material go to waste." The man is either too stupid or too drunk to notice Dean's apparent sarcasm.

"Hi, yes can I please have a cab sent to," he looks towards the bartender for assistance.

" _Capone’s Hideaway,_ " he tells Dean.

"Yes, could I please get a pick-up at _Capone’s Hideaway?_ " he speaks into his phone. "Thanks." He drops his phone back into his pocket. "You have cab money, buddy? I can float you if you don't."

The man stands back up and shuffles to the front door. "Nah, I'm good." He pats Dean on the shoulder and leans in close. "Thanks for helping me out, I really could've embarrassed myself over there."

“Anytime, Man. Have a good night.” He waits until the inebriated man stumbles through the door before heading back to his stool.

As he sits down, the bartender places a fresh beer in front of him. “Compliments of the lovely young lass.”

Dean looks up at the blonde who is now winking at him. Her smile shows off her adorable dimples, her head of curls bouncing as she walks out the door. He lifts his glass and nods in her direction.

During the commotion, another man has joined the bartender; the two of them are huddled together discussing the contents of a piece of paper clutched in the newcomer’s fingers. Dean's only able to see the man’s profile but what he can see causes him to freeze, glass raised to his now gaping mouth.

His head of dark hair looks to be in desperate need of a comb, his strong jawline has the beginnings of a 5o’clock shadow and Dean’s heart aches a little at the way his shoulders slump like he's holding the weight of the world on them. His breath hitches a little too loudly when his gaze reaches his plump lips. What he wouldn’t give to moisten those dry lips with his tongue.

Unfortunately for Dean, this is the same moment the man looks up and locks eyes with him. He doesn’t say a word, just holds his gaze with his piercing blue eyes, and raises one eye brow in a challenging manner.

Dean quickly raises the glass to his lips while averting his eyes. He downs half the contents and yet his mouth still feels like it's lined with cotton. He grabs a pretzel, not because he's hungry anymore but because he needs to distract himself from staring again. The man grunts out a few words to the bartender, sends one more glare towards Dean then walks away. Dean isn’t able to understand the words and yet the deep, gravelly voice causes him to choke on his half-chewed pretzel.

Through his coughing fit he manages to drink a little more beer and calm himself.

“You okay there, buddy?” the bartender asks. “How about some water?”

Embarrassed that he's now managed to bring more attention to himself, Dean holds up a hand before patting his chest. “No, I’m good. Just went down the wrong pipe. What’s with that guy?” He doesn’t even mean to ask the question, it just pops out of his mouth.

The bartender mistakes his look of awe and pure longing as indignation. “Oh, that’s just Cas. Pay no attention to him, he isn’t so bad once you get to know his…ways. He doesn’t really like to interact with-"

“The customers?” Dean asks.

“No, actually, people,” he finishes with a slight grin.

Dean clears his throat as the bartender changes the subject. “I have to say that was a little impressive how you handled that over there.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to step on any toes, I know he was a paying customer.”

The bar keep waves a hand at Dean. “No ya beat me to the punch, I was just about to intervene.” He studies Dean for a moment. “Didn’t seem like it was your first time dealing with the likes of him. What do you do for a living?”

“Odd jobs, mostly. I’ve done a little of everything, including tending bar.”

“Hmm.” He begins to wash a few glasses while he speaks. “Any work lined up?”

“No, that was first on my to do list for the morning. Hit the want ads.”

“Well, we're looking to hire if you're interested. Nothing too exciting, tips aren’t bad. I need another set of hands behind the bar.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I-"

“Tell you what,” he says cutting Dean off, “take the evening to think about it then come by tomorrow, say 6pm. I can show you around and then you can decide if it’s something you'd be interested in.”

Dean doesn’t answer right away. He's never been one to be exactly the most optimistic of people and this opportunity just seems a little too good to be true.

“I mean, unless you have something else lined up. Really, no skin off my back.” He sets the last glass aside to dry, pulls a small cutting board out and plops down a few lemons and limes.

“No. No, I don’t-” Dean pauses then slaps a hand down onto the bar. “You know what? What the hell? I'lll see you at 6pm tomorrow.” He gets up and lays a few bills next to his empty glass.

The man behind the counter grins. “Alright then.” He offers his right hand to Dean. “Name’s Mick.”

“Nice to meet you, Mick. I’m Dean, Dean Campbell.” He releases Mick’s hand. “And on that note, I have a sea of boxes waiting for me to wade through in order to find my bed.”

Mick returns Dean’s two-finger salute with a nod of his head as he watches Dean leave.

 

On the two block walk to his new apartment, Dean attempts to sort out the questions and doubts weighting down each step he takes. He wonders if he's capable of this kind of work.

He groans aloud as he thinks of the unexpected complication. He considers himself a pretty level headed guy, never one to let his emotions take a hold of his actions.

Many, in fact, have accused him of being too closed off. It was this flaw that ultimately ended his relationship with Cassie. He cared very deeply for her but he knew he could never love her, not in the way she deserved. He didn’t feel any deep connection with her. Eventually she grew tired of spinning her wheels and broke it off with Dean.

Then there was James. Once upon a time he thought James was, for lack of a better term, “good enough”. Maybe not ‘white picket fence, Honey I’m home, how was your day’, the one but comfortable enough. He did have an unhealthy obsession with his Doberman... Dean cuts himself off mid-thought. He isn’t ready or wanting to open that can of hurt any time soon.

Dean isn’t sure what his take on today was. Today, any rational thought was over powered by some kind of strong, magnetic pull. A magnet that completely blocked out his task at hand, even if it was only momentarily. If all goes as planned, a moment can mean life or death.

What he felt for this, what did Mick call him? Cas? What kind of name is that anyway? He supposes it could be short for something. He ponders the odds of the fact he had, on occasion, called Cassie the same nickname.

What he felt for Cas, sight on scene, was something entirely new for Dean. The man never spoke to Dean, barley even gave him a glance. In fact, as he plays over the short interaction, the look he gave Dean was something akin to what one would give a wad of gum on the bottom of his shoe.

Even after that look of disgust? No closer to, ambivalence, Dean still finds himself wanting to know everything about him. Where's he from? How does he like his eggs? Does he even  _like_  eggs? Coffee or tea? What causes him to slump those shoulders is such a defeated way? And, more importantly, how in the world do those beautiful, plump lips taste?

By the time Dean has arrived at his door he's half hard just thinking about that gravelly voice. He longs to hear him say his name, even if only in normal conversation.

He takes a deep breath and thinks about unpleasant things like flying in an airplane and eating vegetables. It does the trick and blood flow is once again diverted.

Upon entering his “new” place, Dean hangs his leather jacket in the closet directly in front of him. Walking to the right he grabs a beer out of the fridge, walks past his small kitchen table and around the half wall that separates the kitchen from the living room/bedroom of the studio apartment.

“I didn’t know there was a welcoming committee. What, no fruit basket?” Dean asks the man currently sitting on his couch. The fisherman’s hat is still perched on his head, the Navy pea coat is slung over the arm of the recliner.

“I brought you beer instead," he gestures to the bottle in Dean’s left hand before shaking Dean’s out stretched right hand. “Well done back there, Brother. I think you may be a natural.”

Dean sits down next to Benny with a small laugh. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I was a bundle of nerves back there. I felt like I was going to be exposed as a fraud every second that ticked by.”

Benny chuckles. “I’ve been working undercover for close to ten years and I can tell you that feeling never goes away.”

“Uh, thanks for calming my panic.”

Benny laughs louder this time, slapping a large hand on Dean’s shoulder. “It doesn’t go away but, I promise you, it'll get better. Besides, it keeps you alert and on your toes. Don’t worry, you'll be fine.” He pulls his hand back. “Tell me, what happened after I left?”

Dean sinks back into the couch and scrubs a hand over his face. “Surprisingly well. A part of me thinks too well. He offered me a job.” He skips over the minor detail of the blue eyed man with the ‘just been fucked’ head of hair.

“Hot damn! Nice work! Like I said, a natural.”

“Speaking of natural, you play a pretty good grabby drunk.”

Benny wags his eyebrows up and down, his ice blue eyes twinkling. “Who says I was playing?”

“Ha! Well, I sure hope you were because she may give the impression of a warm baked chocolate chip cookie but Donna isn't someone to mess with. She's quite the bad ass.”

“No worries there, Donna and I go way back. I once saw her take down a perp twice her size high on PCP. She never even broke a sweat. Where did you leave things with the job offer?”

Dean begins to peel the label off his bottle. “I played it off like I was unsure about tending bar again. I’m supposed to think about it and go back tomorrow night.”

Benny nods his head and grabs his coat as he stands. “Good, laying down the ground work. Alright, I’ll be getting out of your hair now. Just make sure you check in with your handler every night, even if you have nothing to report, and get your weekly reports to Captain Turner.”

Just before Dean closes the door, Benny tells him. “Remember, I’m just a phone call away if you need anything.”

“Thanks, man, I really appreciate it. And thanks for your help tonight.”

“Anytime, Brother, anytime.”

“Night.”

Dean leans against the door with a deep sigh. He pushes off, grabbing his duffle off the floor; the only items in the furnished apartment belonging to him. He throws the duffle on the bed tucked in the corner. The bed that's _not_ blocked by boxes as he had alluded to earlier, and digs out his cell phone.

“Hey, it’s me, checking in,” he answers after a chipper greeting of, “Talk to me.”

“I’m not sure how we do this. Do we speak in code or what?” he asks, only half joking.

“No need for code," Charlie Bradbury laughs. "You check in so we know everything is copesetic. Nightly is preferable. Radio silence longer than two days and back up will be sent in. Texting is fine if there's nothing to report. Use your own phone. If you use your burner then I know which Dean I'm talking to and your pesky cousin from back home will respond appropriately. That all cool with you?”

Dean nods his head then clears his throat when he realizes Charlie can’t see him. “Yeah, that sounds easy enough.”

Dean suddenly feels very tired as the adrenaline from making first contact begins to dissipate. Drinking three beers on an empty stomach isn’t helping his cause. He ignores his growling stomach as he fills Charlie in on the details so far.

“Oh and I sure hope you've worked your cyber magic because he now has the name Dean Campbell to dig into.”

“Winchester!” she yells, causing Dean to wince, he can feel her offense through the phone. “You wound me!”

When Dean first transferred to Chicago’s Precinct 21, Charlie and Benny were the first to welcome him to the Windy city. Even though they both held detective shields, they took no hesitation in helping out the new beat cop.

“Dean Campbell has lead a nice, average life. All is in cyber space, right down to his lucrative High School baseball career.”

“Baseball? Why baseball?”

“What, can’t you play?”

Now Dean is the one wounded. “What? Of course I can play!”

Charlie huffs out a laugh. “The bar sometimes plays in a summer league with other businesses in the neighborhood. I thought maybe that little nugget tucked in your past may come in handy.”

“Geez, its October. I sure as hell hope I’m out of here before the summer!”

“We all do but it never hurts to be prepared.”

“Good point.” Dean hears his phone beep with an incoming text. “I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow night after my meeting with Mick the bartender.”

He hits end after their goodbyes and opens his text from his brother.

**Sam: All settled in at the “new digs”?**

**Dean: “New digs”? Are you some kind of hipster now?**

**Dean: Yes, I am, thanks for checking in. Give my love to Eileen and Malachi.**

**Sam: They send it right back. Watch your six.**

**Dean: Night, Bitch.**

**Sam: Aren’t we too old for that?**

**Sam: Night, Jerk.**

Dean sets his phone on the bedside table. He falls asleep with a set of blue eyes staring at him from behind his closed lids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please know this is all from my head, I have zero knowledge on how actual police work, let alone undercover work, is done.
> 
> Also, I know Mick is English. This Mick is actually waaaay closer to Adam. Ok, it is Adam but he goes by the name Mick ;-).


	2. Chapter 2

Finally, after a stress filled day of useless activities, Dean is entering _Capone’s Hideaway._ On the walk to the bar he had thought back over his first briefing with Captain Turner.

_Captain Rufus Turner drops two 8x10 photos on the desk in front of Dean. He points to the first photo._

_“This is the bar, as long as you do your job correctly, where you'll be posted.”_

_Dean snorts. “Honestly? Is this guy some kind of moron? Doesn’t ‘Capone’s Hideaway’ just scream ‘I’m a criminal?”_

_The Captain momentarily stares Dean down. He does not mince his words. “The last thing you should be doing is underestimating one Metatron. That is a good way to get yourself dead, Officer Winchester.”_

_Dean clears his throat. “Uh, sorry Sir.”_

_He lays a finger down onto the second photo. Dean studies the photo of the middle aged, portly man. “This is Marvin Metatron. And before you comment further, no that is not his legal name. He has a bit of a God complex. He may look like a goober but I assure you he's as cold, calculating, manipulative and dangerous as they come."_

_The Captain sits back into his chair and temples his fingers before continuing. "Metatron is as slippery as he is cunning. The law has been after him for decades but no one has been successful in making a direct connection to any of his crimes. He's suspected of a wide range of activities running from Social Security scams to racketeering. As far as we can see, he stays clear of drugs and weapons but a few of his cronies have gone poof in the past.”_

_Captain Turner sits forward and sets down two fifty dollar bills next to the last photo. “Look before touching.”_

_Dean leans forward and studies the two bills. At first glance, they look identical. On further inspection Dean notices the bill on his right is missing the words “The United States of America” written under Grant’s collar. It's a minute detail, not noticeable unless you're looking for it. The blue and red coloring in the back ground is also off just a little. Again, not noticeable without comparison. “This one on the right is a fake.” Dean states, hovering his index finger above the bill._

_“Good. Now pick it up,” he instructs Dean._

_He picks it up and notices a difference the moment he runs the pad of his thumb over the bill. “It feels just a little too smooth, and I don’t know, stiff maybe.”_

_“Excellent.”_

_Dean tosses the bill down, feeling his feathers ruffle a little in pride at his Superior’s praise._

_“75% of the reported cases of counterfeit money in the Chicago area alone, have all been traced to the same source. We still don't know how far the bills have spread, or where the base of operation is located. We aren’t certain if Metatron is running this operation or if he's acting as the middle man._

_Officer Winchester, your main purpose on this assignment is to act as another set of eyes and ears. Lay low, I can not stress that enough. Metatron’s crew is extremely loyal and are watched very closely. If you see or hear anything, no matter how small the detail, I want you to pass it along. Do not follow up on your own.”_

_He pauses when he sees the look of discomfort on Dean’s face. “I know it may seem like one step up from a steak out but your role is vital. This business has stayed low on the radar which leads intel to believe this location is used for higher up meetings as opposed to moving merchandise. Keep a close eye on customers. Watch for repeats and anyone who may head towards the back offices._

_We have one of our own deep undercover. When I say deep I mean he's been working it for close to five years. I’m keeping his identity from you for the safety of him and you. He'll be aware of you, so know you won't be completely alone.”_

 

Knowing he's not alone and being watched both calms and unnerves Dean simultaneously. His attention is diverted to the other troubling aspect of his current case.

“Hello, welcome to…oh it’s you.” Cas says when looks up from the cash register.

“Wow, I think maybe you should tone it down a bit buddy. I’m starting to feel all warm and fuzzy from the welcome.”

Cas remains silent, jaw set, eyes on Dean.

Over the years, Dean has mastered the art of keeping a neutral face and hard eyes. Under the intense scrutiny of this man, Dean finds his resolve melting faster than cotton candy on a tongue. He holds his palms out in a gesture of surrender. “Just giving you a hard time. I’m actually here to see Mick regarding a possible job. He told me to come by at six.”

Cas makes a point to look at the neon wall clock above the pool table. “Points to you for punctuality.”

Dean lets out a nervous laugh. “See, I know you're being a smart ass but I’m going to say ‘Thank you’ anyway.”

He rolls his eyes at Dean as he turns his back to him. Over his shoulder he gestures at a stool. “Have a seat, he should be out in a minute.”

Determined to crack this guy’s icy exterior Dean directs his question to his back. “So, how long have you worked here?” He doesn’t even care that the man is ignoring him, he's too busy studying the way his broad shoulders taper down to a lean waist.

“Well I’ll be, you came back!”

Dean stands and greets Mick with a wide smile. “Sure, what do I have to lose, right?”

Mick returns Dean’s smile. “Nothin, I should think, but plenty to gain.” He waves a hand at Dean. “Come along, I’ll show you around.” As Dean rounds the bar Mick addresses Cas.

“Cas, could ya join us? I never had the chance to speak with you about Dean yesterday but my thought is Dean here would be a great assistant to you in back and another set of hands behind the bar.”

Cas doesn’t verbally disagree with Mick but it's clear to Dean the man isn’t happy with this new piece of information.

Mick leads the two men towards a short hallway located to the left of the front door and points to a closed door on the left. “This is the boss’s office, he doesn’t come in too often.” He turns to his right and pushes past a swinging door. “Here's our small kitchen. We offer a small menu, nothing fancy. As you can see our accommodations are less than stellar but what are ya gonna do?”

“Do you currently have a cook?”

“We have a part time cook, the rest of the time we all fill in. Have you ever worked in a kitchen, Dean?”

Dean nods his head as he studies the small, cramped quarters. The kitchen is nothing more than a breezeway. There's a small aisle, not big enough for more than two people to work comfortably. The left side holds a four-burner stove, griddle and industrialize size refrigerator/freezer unit. The right holds a prep table, microwave and dishwasher. “I have. I’m not ashamed to say I can make a mean burger.”

Mick leads him out of the kitchen and moves further down the hall. “Good to hear, Cas here is always looking for new items to change up our menu.”

“Here're the employee rest rooms, breakroom, and finally our walk-in cooler.” Dean follows Mick in while Cas waits in the hall. Again, the room isn’t very big, Dean thinks roughly 12x12, but big enough to hold seven pallets of sturdy alcohol boxes, food items and several bags of ice. “Having a small menu keeps the food inventory low.”

Once again Dean follows Mick out, this time he leads them back down the hall and to the bar. “As we go along your position may change but for now I'd like you to tend to customers and help Cas out with inventory duties. Does that sound like something you' be interested in?”

Dean looks around the bar, skimming his eyes over the dart board and pool table. He rubs his palms together. “Yeah, I think I could find this to my liking. When would you like me to start?”

“Well, actually now, if at all possible.”

“I wasn’t expecting that but sure, no time like the present time, I suppose.” He hesitates before asking, “Don’t you want to know a little more about me? Did I even give you my full name?” Dean recalls every detail of their conversation the night before but he needs to play the part.

“Oh right, good point.” Mick steps up behind the bar, rummages around a shelf under the cash register, retrieves a piece of paper and a clipboard. He hands the paper to Dean. “Short application, nothing fancy.”

Dean glances over the paper and is relieved to see a very basic form. Name, SS number, current address, previous address and places of employment. Charlie had created a full portfolio of Dean Campbell’s life for Dean to commit to memory. It wasn’t easy keeping it all straight at first but now he's grateful he took the time to do so. He glances up at Mick. “I can fill this out now if you'd like.”

“Actually,” he turns to Cas “we've run into a bit of a snag and I was hoping you and Dean could help me out.” The man of few words waits quietly for Mick to continue. “I know your shift is almost over but one of the delivery trucks broke down so they unloaded at our closest warehouse. Could you and Dean run out and pick up the load? It is only a few pallets.”

Cas takes the clipboard from Mick’s outstretched hand. He breaks his silence with a loud sigh. “Really? This is at least a 45 minute drive, not accounting for traffic.”

“I know! I know! I'd go myself but I can’t leave Dean here alone. I’ll give you tomorrow off.”

Cas sighs again. “Fine, let’s not waste any more time.”

“Fantastic”! I owe you, here catch.” Cas easily catches the keys Mick tosses him. He turns on his heel and heads out the door with Dean scrambling to catch up.

Dean snaps his seatbelt into place as Cas fires up the ignition to the white box truck.

“What time was your shift supposed to end?”

“Oh, right about now.”

Dean winces. “Sorry about that.”

Cas shrugs his shoulder but remains irritatingly quiet.

“Mind if I use this clipboard?” He gestures to the seat between them. “I might as well fill out this application.” He takes the quick glace his way as a go ahead.

Dean looks over the sheet, making a mental note of the address of the warehouse before snapping his application in place. He pulls out a pen from the inside of his jacket and quickly fills in the spaces.

“So, Cas, you never answered my question from earlier.”

“And which one are you referring to? You have asked several in a short span of time.”

Ignoring the barb, watching the buildings as they pass by he asks again. “How long have you worked at Capone’s?”

Dean begins to get a little irritated when Cas remains silent. He can’t recall doing anything that would have made this guy hate him already. He worries maybe he hadn’t hidden his attraction the night before as well as he had hoped.

On an exasperated sigh Dean blurts out. “Look, man, I’ve been told I can act like an immature kid but for the life of me I can’t recall what I did to make you hate me so much. I could really use this job and since you'll be my superior, I’m begging you to throw me a bone. I can’t correct my behavior if I don’t know what I did to offend.”

Dean watches as he clenches his jaw, his gaze remains fixed on the road in front of him. Following another uncomfortable silence Cas finally speaks. “I believe we may've gotten off on the wrong foot.”

Dean's unable to stop the loud “Ha!” that pops out of his mouth. “More like wrong leg.”

Cas continues as if he hadn't been interrupted. “I don’t hate you, as you say. I don’t…interact well with others.”

“Mick did tell me you don’t like people much.”

“That may be an inaccurate statement. It’s not that I don’t _like_ people I’m just not comfortable around others. I’ve always been a bit of a hermit and it makes me feel….awkward. I can’t hate you because I don’t know you.”

Now it's Dean’s turn to be silent but only for a moment. “Oh. Well, that I can handle.” He extends his right arm across the seat between them. “Dean Campbell.”

Cas stares briefly before wrapping his long, slender fingers tightly around Dean’s. “Castiel Novak, nice to meet you Dean.”

“Castiel. I’ve been wondering what Cas was short for.”

“Go on, I’ve heard it all before," Castiel says dryly as he hand returns to the steering wheel.

“Heard what?”

“How weird my name is.”

“Actually, I was thinking it was kind of a bad ass name. I’ve never heard anything like it before.” The officer portion of Dean’s brain suppresses the urge to spew forth the fifteen questions that spring to mind, the man still hasn’t told him how long he's worked for Capone’s, he sure isn’t going to volunteer any information as personal as his name.

As if he's reading Dean’s mind, Cas speaks up. “I’ve worked at _Capone’s Hideaway_ for three years. I started out in a position similar to yours.”

“This boss I've heard nothing about, is he a decent guy to work for?”

“He’s ok, I guess, I've had worse. He doesn’t come around much, he pretty much lets Mick and I run things. Mick has made the comment that I'm a “cuddly bear” compared to Ketch.”

Dean snorts at Cas’s use of physical air quotes. He also reacts to the boss’s name even though he knew it ahead of time thanks to Charlie. “Ketch? What kind of nickname is that?”

Now it’s Cas’s turn to snort and Dean can’t help but smile at the sound. “It’s not a nick name, it’s his last name. Arthur Ketch is his name. I’m sure you'll meet him soon. He has a habit of popping in unannounced.”

The silence that stretches between them becomes a little uncomfortable and Dean's a little annoyed with himself when his next comment pops out unfiltered. “So, I get the feeling you aren’t too crazy about small spaces.”

Cas, again, stares at Dean and he's afraid he may have set them back a peg. “How, may I ask, did you come to that conclusion?”

“Well, when Mick was showing me around you didn’t follow us into the cooler or the kitchen. I’m sorry, I have a bad habit of speaking before thinking. You don’t have to answer me.”

“No, you're right. I had a foster mother who had…unconventional methods of punishment.”

“Not gonna lie, that's pretty shitty.”

Cas shrugs. “Past is in the past.”

“You say that but objects in the rearview mirror may appear closer than they are.”

Cas does a double take look at Dean. “Did you just quote _Meatloaf_ at me?”

Dean grins. “Another bad habit of mine. I’m not always great with original thought, I’m much happier stealing from others.”

“Okay, since we're getting personal, what brings you here,  
Dean? Did a girl break your heart or are you running from the law?”

Dean laughs at the irony of Cas’s question. “You're close. A man broke my heart and I thought a clean break in a new city may be in order.”

“A man? Are you gay?”

“I don’t really like to put a label on myself but I suppose you could say bisexual. I enjoy all willing company. What about you? Do you have a special someone waiting at home?”

“No, I’m not interested.”

“In men or women?”

“Either.”

“Like, ever?” Dean's never heard of such a thing.

“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you're asking but I just don't have an interest in being with anyone at the present time. As I've explained, I’m much happier being alone.”

Dean takes a moment to let this new information set in. He isn’t sure how he feels about it. He wants to ask for more details but again thinks that may be pushing him too far. Mostly he wants to know if he has a chance in hell.

Cas is pulling the truck behind a string of non-descript brick buildings before Dean's able to ask any further questions. He turns the truck around and backs into the loading bay. “Stay here while I unlock the door.” He jumps out, enters the building and exits through the large bay door. He climbs back in the truck and smoothly backs the truck into the building before shutting off the engine. "Let’s just hope they left us a forklift or this will be a very long evening.”

Dean jumps out of the truck and takes a discreet look around. The cement walls and floor are bare except for four pallets sitting in the middle of the room and, thankfully, a forklift. “Is this space used for anything? There's nothing here.” He makes the obvious comment as he opens the back of the truck.

Cas raises his voice as he starts up the lift. “The handful of times I've been here it's been used as storage space for the two other restaurants Ketch manages, mostly equipment.”

Dean nods in understanding as Cas loads up the first pallet. He wonders off towards the only inside door in the room. He glances back to make sure the other man isn’t looking before trying the knob. Dean's not surprised to find the windowless door locked. Dean closes the truck gate as Cas backs the forklift into its original space.

“If you wouldn’t mind pulling forward, I’ll lock up.”

After following Cas’s order, he throws the truck into park and slides back across the bench seat. His seat belt is clicking back into place as Cas climbs in.

“That wasn’t so bad.” Dean comments.

“No, just more of an inconvenience due to the long drive.”

The ride back is much more pleasant, Dean manages to get Cas talking a little about his taste in music and movies, which turns out to be very minimal.

Back at the bar, Castiel wastes no time ducking out the door but at least he pauses to bid Dean good night. It’s a start, Dean thinks to himself as he follows Mick to the bar, clutching his application between his fingers. “Come on Dean, we can go over a few more details regarding pay and benefits.”

 

“So, it was an empty warehouse? Really?”

“Really, truly Charlie.”

“That's a little strange, to say the least.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. It felt like it was almost a test of some sort but I could be reading too much into the whole evening.”

“What do you mean by test?”

Dean is pacing in his living room, phone clutched in one hand and a nerf basketball in the other. He tosses the ball through the small hoop on the wall next to his television. “I don’t know, like maybe don’t send in a ton of shields in there to case out the joint in case they're waiting to see if I pass on the location.”

“Oh Dean, you're such a newbie, it’s really rather cute.”

“Dude!”

“Don’t ‘dude me’, I’m a lady, Winchester.”

“Yeah, a lady who could kick my ass,” Dean mumbles into the phone.

“Don’t you forget that and don’t worry, we know how to work this end, it isn’t _our_ first case. The location of this warehouse is exactly the kind of information we need. Keep up the good work and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Dean sends a quick text to Sam before flopping down onto his bed. He feels a little lonely being so far from Sam, Eileen and his nephew but he thinks he may have a possible friend in Cas and maybe even Mick.

His last thought before falling asleep is what a shame it is to start a friendship on a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to anyone who knows why I chose Rufus as the Captain of the undercover operation and not the usual placement of Bobby ;-).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to warn you, I have a tendency to switch POV's without warning. It is a flaw I am working on.

After a brief search, Castiel finds Dean amongst the pallets of boxed brandy, wine and beer. He sticks his head through the door and calls Dean’s name. Dean pops his head up from behind a pallet.

“Right here. I’m just finishing up with that inventory list, I’ll be right out.”

“I really need to get that turned in immediately.”

Dean winces, “I’m sorry, really.” He drops out of view again, his voice is muffled as he continues, “I know I’ve been here a week and I should have this system down by now but I'm still having a hard time finding a few items.”

Castiel grits his teeth, takes a deep breath, kicks aside a box wedged in the door and walks into the cooler. “No need to be so hard on yourself, it's _only_ been a week as you pointed out.” He steps around the pallet to find Dean crouched near the ground, clipboard in hand.

Dean springs to his feet, “Cas, I’m almost finished, I know this isn’t your most favorite of spots to be, I just need one more minute.”

“It'll be more efficient if we finish together.”

Dean is scanning the pallets, “I can’t seem to find, oh wait here it is.” He makes a notation on the clipboard then glances up at Cas. “All done.”

“Great,” Cas reaches for his clipboard, “I’ll just-” His words are cut off by the sight of Dean’s eyes growing wide as he pushes Castiel aside. He spins around to watch Dean scramble for the door, pulling up short in front of it.

“Oh shit, I hope you didn’t..and you did. Okay no problem.”

“Dean, you really shouldn’t leave the door propped open, it's a large waste of electricity.”

“Yeah, about that.” Dean slowly turns around to look at Castiel. “The latch has been sticking lately. Yesterday I couldn’t get it open, I had to wait until Mick was in ear shot in order to let me out.”

“Sooo, you're saying we're locked in here?” Despite the cold air surrounding him, Castiel can feel the sweat starting to dot his forehead and gather at his hairline. The concern on Dean’s face is evident even in his state of panic. He squeezes his eyes shut as he stumbles backwards. “Okay, its fine. Really.”

The hard surface Castiel feels is not the metal of the cooler wall, it's a bumpy plaster wall. The hanging garments brushing the top of his head with every movement makes him think there are snakes trying to slither down his shirt. He turns his body to the right, slamming a fist to the wall. Again, reality is distorted for him as his eyes open. The room is dark and there's a woman’s dress shoe pressing into his knee as he scrambles to reach the small sliver of light peeking in from under the door.

The tears run down his cheeks as he slams his small fist onto cheap plywood. “Please, I’ll be good, just let me out. Please. Please, I’m good. Please, I can be good. Please.” His mantra pauses when a second voice appears near him, muffled but present. How is there enough room for another person? He jumps when a warm hand presses between his shoulder blades. He concentrates hard to make out what the newcomer is saying. Something about a baby? Castiel drops his hand and rests his head against the wood door, only now it feels cold. The warm hand on his back is making small, soothing circles. Suddenly he doesn’t feel so tense, he isn’t alone. It's…nice not to be alone.

“….she still needs a little work and I’m hoping this summer I'll be able to give her the attention she deserves.”

Castiel shakes his head, forcing his eyes open and is met with two shining emeralds. “Dean?” There's a loud sucking sound to his left as the cooler door is ripped open and Mick’s grinning face appears.

“You crazy stooks, you know this door is busted.”

“Well I don’t know what a ‘stook’ is but I'm aware of that fact. I called the locksmith and he should be here any minute.”

Castiel manages to give Dean a small grateful look before pushing past Mick, out the door. He catches a snippet of their conversation before disappearing around the corner.

“Uh, he had to pee,” Dean tells Mick. “We were about to empty a beer bottle when you came to our rescue.”

Castiel shoves through the employee bathroom door and rushes to the sink. He splashes his face with cold water in an attempt to scrub away the images still lingering behind his eyelids. He shakes his head in hopes of forcing out the echoes of a sobbing little boy. A little boy who's all alone and frightened. The embarrassment begins to seep in as he studies his pale face in the mirror. The embarrassement only deepens when the door opens and Dean steps through then locks the door behind him.

Castiel closes his eyes against the shame as he senses Dean step beside him. He isn’t aware of what he spoke out loud back there in the small box of a room. The room that was not, in fact, a closet. He doesn’t want to look at Dean and see pity, or worse yet laughter, in those green eyes beneath the long lashes. Those green eyes that have haunted Castiel’s dreams since the first night he saw them. How's he supposed to face this man?

He jumps again when he feels that same warm hand that was able to slam him back to reality such a short time ago. The warmth disappears just as quickly as it appeared, leaving a longing ache in its place.

“Sorry,” Dean rasps out, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I, uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay. I also wanted to say I’m sorry for putting you through that. I knew the door was sticking and I was so busy concentrating on my task at hand that I didn’t think to warn you not to close the door.”

The weight of Dean’s hand lands on Castiel’s arm and this time he does not flinch, instead he takes a moment to bask in the small gesture. When he opens his eyes, he sees concern etched on Dean’s face, not pity and certainly not humor. “Thank you, Dean but I should be the one apologizing for my behavior.” His voice comes out breathy and much softer than he has ever heard. Once again, Castiel feels that ache when Dean drops his hand. He distracts himself by reaching for a paper towel to dry off his face. “I know I acted quite ridiculous in there.”

“Hey, hey time out!” Dean holds his hands out like a referee. “I’m going to stop you before you go any further. There's nothing ridiculous about any of what just happened and you certainly have no reason to apologize. We all have our own demons to deal with, right?”

Castiel studies Dean’s face. He finds it hard to believe this beautiful, confident man has any of his own hang ups. Then again, he thinks to himself, one never knows. “I guess you're right. At any rate,” his eyes briefly meet Dean’s before flicking off to the side. “I thank you. I, uh, better get that inventory order turned in before the boss has my hide.”

Dean steps aside as Castiel reaches for the lock.

 

@@@@@

It's Saturday night and the bar is almost to capacity. Despite the fact Dean’s shift ends in ten minutes he happily steps behind the bar and fills orders from the opposite end of Cas.

The last three weeks have been, as far as the case is concerned, uneventful. There haven't been any suspicious customers and every shipment Dean has come into contact with has been legit. There are many days Dean has to remind himself he's working a case and not just living his day to day life. Not that he's jeopardizing his safety but life as Dean Campbell has become maybe a bit...comfortable. He works his shift, heads to the grocery store then home. Once home he changes clothes, watches television or chats with Sam and Eileen via Skype. The last duty of the night is fulfilled when he checks in with Charlie.

The last few conversations with Charlie have mostly consisted of her reassuring Dean he's not, in fact, wasting his time. Dean has chosen to turn his frustration into a much more entertaining way of expending energy. Dean’s goal every day is to see Cas plaster a genuine smile on his face. He has yet to make this goal but he feels it may be on the horizon.

After their “reintroduction” in the van their working dynamic was a little tense but vastly improved from their first few interactions. It wasn’t until after the cooler incident that Dean was aware of the shift. Sitting together in silence is no longer uncomfortable. When they stand in each other’s presence they stand a little closer, their work behind the bar together is almost like a carefully choreographed duet. Fingers will linger just a hair longer than necessary when passing off pint glasses, arms will brush while working the cash register. If Cas is in Dean’s way he will gently, and sometimes not so gently depending on hot Cas looks on that particular day, hip bump him out of his way. More often than not, Cas will give Dean a steady, annoyed look but on occasion he'll give Dean the smallest of smirks. It's only there for the briefest of moments but it still leaves Dean feeling like he's won the lottery.

 

“I've been living here for almost a month and I have yet to see anything besides the inside of this bar and the grocery store down the road. Help me out here, tomorrow I have full day off and I'd love to do something. Preferably something outdoors but at this point I’ll take any suggestions that don't involve me pouring alcohol, counting cases of alcohol or calling cabs for those who have ingested too much said alcohol.”

It's almost closing time and Capone’s has been empty for quite some time. They're sitting at one of the small tables, juke box playing in the background while they enjoy a beer together.

Cas points his bottle at Dean. “You should know by now I'm the last person to dole out suggestions on social activities.”

“You're telling me you never go out? All you do is work and sleep? Come on, even Howard Hughs managed to get out to see a movie now and then.”

Dean feels a slight flutter in his chest when Cas almost smiles. “I’m not agoraphobic! I just prefer to be by myself.”

“Ok, then what do you do?”

“What, you want me to hand you ammunition in order to tease me more?”

“Come on!”

“I often frequent the Field Museum," he relents with a sigh. "The Shedd Aquarium can be pleasant as long as it's a slow day. There's also the Planetarium, Grant Park, or of course Navy Pier which isn’t to my liking but you may enjoy it. Honestly, Dean, its Chicago. It's hard to go anywhere without bumping into some kind of tourist attraction.”

Dean studies the wall behind Cas, deep in thought. He's picturing a perfect day involving the man currently sitting across from him. He knows it'll never come to fruition but it's fun to daydream just the same.

“See, I knew you would find my ideas lame.”

Dean pulls his head out of the clouds and a smile slowly spreads across his face. “No actually, I was thinking…never mind. Thank you for the suggestions, they all sound like a great way to spend a day off.”

“What were you going to say?”

Dean does his best to redirect the conversation. “Where is a good place to get a pie? The bakery in the grocery store isn’t cutting it.” He adds to himself, “I suppose I could make my own but I'm so damn tired by the time I get out of here.”

“You bake?”

“On occasion. Before my Mom passed she taught me a few basics. Pie is my favorite but I'm not one to turn my nose up at a cookie or brownie.” Dean’s eyes are lit like a little boy on Christmas morning. “What about you, what's your guilty pleasure?”

Cas crinkles his nose and the sight makes Dean salivate just a little. He sure makes it difficult to keep his distance when he pulls cute shit like that, Dean thinks to himself.

“I don’t really have one. Peanut Butter and jelly sandwiches, I suppose.”

Dean’s first reaction is to laugh but the thought is very endearing. His heart stutters a little as Cas continues.

“I grew up in foster care. I shuffled through many places, none of them were very welcoming and they certainly weren’t home. There was one woman who made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I was, I think, seven. It was the first time I had ever had peanut butter. I had jelly sandwiches plenty of times because it was cheap, but never peanut butter. It was the best meal I ever had growing up.”

He looks up at Dean, his cheeks are pink from embarrassment. “I must sound like some pathetic, wounded animal. My apologies.”

Dean starts to disagree but Castiel continues speaking. “You asked about pie.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head in thought, “Um, I know there's a bakery down on 8th Avenue and I’ve heard customers say they have really good cherry pie.” His eye pop open as a thought occurs to him. “Oh and I’ve heard several people brag about their cinnamon rolls. I’ve never eaten a cinnamon roll before but they must be good if I've heard positive feedback on more than one occasion.”

The grip on his beer bottle tightens as Dean fights the urge to lean over and kiss Castiel. Once he knows what those perfectly plump, slightly dry looking lips feel and taste like under his tongue he wants to wrap his arms around Cas’s broad shoulders and shower him in love. He gets the impression there wasn’t anyone in his life that took the time to do that.

“Hey Cas, how many phone numbers did you get tonight?”

Cas furrows his eyebrows at the sudden change in topic. “None.”

“Don’t bull shit a bull shitter, how many?”

Cas closes his eyes. “Three.”

“Ha! I knew it! That bachelorette party that came through here, they were having none of my pathetic attempts at flirting. Every one of them, even the bride at one point, was asking about you.”

“Oh stop.”

“No exaggeration!” In a falsetto voice and a fling of his hand Dean cries out. “Oh my Gawd, _you've_ got to tell me about that hunk down there. I totally want to take him home tonight.” He bats his eyelashes at Cas before bursting into laughter.

“That's ridiculous, you act like they're all bubble gum chewing nit wits. Besides, they were all under the influence of alcohol. If they were sober, not one of them would've given me a second glance. I'm nothing special to look at.”

Dean’s hand freezes midway to his mouth, his beer bottle just about to slip from his numb fingers. He opens his mouth then closes it again when he's unable to force any words out. He slams his bottle down a little harder than he'd intended. “You really don’t see it, do you?” he asks quietly.

“See what?” Cas is genuinely perplexed by Dean’s sudden mood shift.

“You asked me what I was thinking earlier. I was thinking a picnic in the park would be nice.”

Cas is even more confused by this statement as he watches Dean get up, walk to the bar and lean over the counter. Cas hears the click of a pen but he's distracted by the small flash of skin that's revealed when Dean’s dark grey Henley shirt hikes up at the extension of his arm.

Dean returns to the table but doesn't sit down. He drops a napkin down onto the table. “Make that four. I know you've tomorrow off and picnics aren’t any fun alone.”

Castiel hasn’t taken his eyes off Dean since he first left the table, he continues to watch him as he strolls to the juke box. When his back is turned he glances down at the napkin and his eyes widen at the numbers written there. A flat palm moves into his field of vision.

“Dance with me, Cas.”

“Dean I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Just a simple dance, that’s all it is. You can’t leave me hanging like this.”

On a deep sigh, Cas reluctantly places his hand in Dean’s. Together they walk to the clearing in front of the juke box. His right hand is held high in Dean frame, his left wraps lightly around Dean’s waist. His palm resting at the small of his back is already damp. He looks into Dean’s face and is met with his dazzling smile. Not for the first time, Cas marvels at the crinkles at the corners of Dean’s eyes and wishes he can lay a soft kiss on each one.

“See, this isn’t so bad, is it Cas?” Dean’s moves aren’t grand; they're really not much more than a sway and yet Cas feels lighter than air.

“No, Dean this's nice. I’ve never done this before.”

“You mean with a man? Actually, neither have I, thanks for letting me lead.” He winks at Cas, causing him to almost choke on his next admission.

“No, actually I meant with anyone.”

Dean’s swaying pauses briefly and his face smooths out. “Well than I should do this right.” He curls their interlocked hands inwards until they're tucked tightly between their chests while the hand around Cas’s waist pulls their bodies closer. Dean’s cheek is now pressed against Cas’s as he moves them in small circles around the room.

_“I just want to be with you. Right here with you, just like this. I just want to hold you close. Feel your heart so close to mine.”_

A shiver runs violently down Cas’s spine as Dean begins to sing softly to the song, the warm air floating over his ear makes him involuntarily lean in closer, relishing the feel of Dean’s stubble. He stops his singing and asks softly in his ear. “You okay?” He rubs his hand up and down Cas’ back as he shivers again. “Are you cold?”

Castiel forgets how to move his feet. He stares up at Dean and he forgets how to breathe. His vision has narrowed down to his pouty lips and he aches to taste them.

Sucking in a deep breath, he lets it out slowly as a small voice in the back of his head pipes up. The voice is telling him he doesn’t deserve someone as gentle and kind as Dean. He shouldn’t be having these dirty thoughts of kissing this man. He shouldn’t be noticing the way their, now hard cocks, are almost pressing together. Castiel has spent most of his lifetime fighting this voice in his head. He thought he had managed to bury it along with the body it belonged to but now she is shouting loud and clear.

Her voice is too much, too loud, too strong and Castiel is feeling weak. “I’m sorry, it’s late. I better go. You ok to lock up?” He stumbles backwards, not waiting for an answer, grabs his coat off the back of his chair and bolts out the front door.

Dean is left standing in the bar alone, mouth gaping and utterly dumbfounded. Steven Tyler’s voice fades out as Dean picks up the napkin left forgotten on the table. He asks himself how he managed to ruin such a good thing before it even had a chance to begin.


	4. Chapter 4

“Heya Sammy, you're a sight for sore eyes!” The face of Dean’s younger brother fills the screen of his laptop.

“Its been too long. I was starting to think you forgot about us,” Sam teases. He lets out a loud “Umph” sound as a little boy with shaggy brown hair climbs into his lap.

“Uncle Dean!” Malachi cries as he flaps his little hand in a frantic wave. “I got a new game, when're you gonna come play it with me?” He holds up the case of a Mario Wii game.

“Oh Mal, as soon as I can buddy. Are you keeping your Mom and Dad on their toes for me while I’m gone?”

Before answering, Malachi looks off screen, his hands flying again this time in conversation with his mom. He looks back at the screen. “Mom says I have to get ready for bed but I have time to tell you what my Halloween costume is. Want to guess?”

Dean is fighting the urge to cry at the sound of his nephew’s little voice; so happy and cheerful. “Um, I’m going to say Scooby Doo.”

“Nooooo! I was Scooby last year!”

Dean slaps the side of his head. “How could I forget such an important detail? I give up, what do you have planned for this year?”

“A Power Ranger! Gotta go, love you Uncle Dean.” He blows Dean a kiss and Dean makes a show of catching it and holding it close to his heart.

“Love you buddy.”

“Wow!” Dean looks to Sam, “Really?”

Sam laughs as Mal climbs off his lap and scampers off. “I know, right? He and Eileen found a bunch of our old toys in the attic and he's been obsessed with them ever since. Thank goodness for internet, I played him some of the old shows. Did you know they never went away?”

Dean shakes his head. “That's quite a shame.”

Sam laughs. “I know!” He leans close to the screen. “But seriously, how're things going, Dean?”

“Okay I guess. Could be better, could be worse.”

Sam’s brows furrow. “The last time we talked you sounded much more upbeat. What changed?”

The older Winchester shrugs his shoulder. “Oh you know me, I get restless if I’m still for too long.”

“I do know you, that’s why I’m worried.”

“Don’t be, I’m fine. Hopefully I won’t be here much longer.”

“Maybe we could come by for a visit, we haven’t taken Mal to the aquarium in a while. Ever since he found out you're in the city he's been asking to see Nickle the sea turtle.” Even though his brother is less then an hour away living in a suburb of Chicago, he feels like he's across the world.

“Yeah Sammy, I would really love that.”

Sam looks up off screen, nods his head then looks back at Dean. “Eileen wants to say hi. We’ll talk tomorrow. Love you." He kisses his fingertips before pushing them towards Dean.

“Thanks, Sam.” His voice is husky with unshed tears.

Dean gets up off his bed and sets his laptop onto his kitchen table, adjusting the screen a little and scoots his chair back so more of his face and chest area is showing for the camera.

The little resolve he's been holding onto just about shatters when his sister’s soft face fills his screen. The warmth in her brown eyes as she signs and speaks “Hi Dean,” breaks him and the tears finally spill down his cheeks.

“We miss you, very much.”

For once in his life Dean is eternally grateful he's able to speak with his hands because he doesn’t think he could use his voice. “I miss you all so very much,” he signs clumsily. “I didn’t think it would be this difficult being alone.” He fights the urge to look away in shame.

“Last time you and I texted you mentioned a name. C-a-s?” Dean nods at her spelling. “Did something happen with him?”

Dean lets out a loud puff of air. “How do you know me so well? It’s like you're reading my mind.”

She shrugs her shoulders instead of replying. This isn’t the first time they've had this conversation. He knows Sam is always open and willing to listen when something's bothering him but there is something different, easier, when talking to his sister. He often wonders if her intuitiveness comes from a lifetime of studying facial features or if she's just that good. He thinks it’s a little of both. He'll always be grateful she and Sam found each other.

Ten years ago, he and Sam were staying at a hotel, doing some sightseeing right here in Chicago. The guys in the adjoining room decided to start up a party at 2am. The noise wasn’t the problem, it’s not like he and Sam were a couple of old geezers. What bothered them was the fact that they were out on their balcony harassing a group of girls on the balcony below them.

Dean had tried to get them to go back into their rooms by making jokes but the more rational Dean spoke the more they upped their antics. Sam was worried one of them would topple over the banister the way they were hanging over, yelling down at the girls. He called the front desk and explained the situation. It didn’t take long for everything to quiet down once management intervened.

The next morning there was a knock on their door, it was Eileen. She was the day manager. She'd been briefed on the previous night’s incident and she wanted to make sure everything was satisfactory on their end. The exchange was brief but to Dean, the attraction between his brother and Eileen was blaringly obvious. He spent the remainder of the weekend teasing him over the fact Sam found several excuses to visit the front desk.

He wasn’t surprised in the least when they started dating. It was long before Sam moved to Illinois to be with her. When Dean told Cas he'd moved to Chicago because of a broken heart he was only telling part of the truth. He did move after James broke his heart but he chose Chicago to be closer to his family.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I didn’t think it'd be so hard to put myself aside and play this part.”

“This Cas, he means something to you?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what it is about him, I’m just drawn to him and I think he feels the same.”

Eileen lets out a little giggle and Dean knows his hands did not match his words. “Keep going, you're doing fine.” She tells him.

“I know I’m lying to him about why I’m there but everything else…” he tapers off because the correct signs aren’t coming to him and he's frustrated. Frustrated with the fact he can’t stop feeling this way and he can’t be 100% honest with Cas. “What if I’m not able to fight this pull and I give in? What then? The case ends, he learns the truth and it'll be over.”

“Or,” she breaks in, “or you give in and something magical happens. What if he's the one for you? You'll never know if you never try. Yes, you may meet heartbreak and Honey I hope you don’t but, what if? What if?” She repeats. 

"Do you think it was easy for Sam and I when we first started getting to know each other? Not only did we have an entire state separating us but we had to figure out basic communication.”

“Way to make me feel like a chump for bringing that up.” He can’t help but smile as he remembers Sam staying up at all hours of the night, glued to his laptop learning American Sign Language. The comical part was teaching Dean, he thinks.

She smiles at his comment and rolls her eyes. “My point,” she continues widening her eyes to emphasize her sign, “is we all have hurdles to overcome. You're the only one to know if you can handle either outcome and if it's worth the risk. If HE is worth the risk.”

Dean’s eyes are darting around like a mad man, watching her hands, taking in her facial expressions that tell a tale all on their own and listening to her words.

He thinks about the gentleness of Cas’s voice when they're idly chatting. He pictures the way the corner of his mouth raises up just a little like he's hiding the best secret, or the way the skin between his eyebrows crinkle as his eyes furrow because he has dealt with just one to many customers. He thinks how he has yet to see a genuine smile light up his handsome face or the fact he wants to know what a full belly laugh coming from that deep voice sounds like.

“As always, you're correct, Leen. I know I'll always wonder. I also know in my heart I'll lose him but I can’t miss out on the little time I have. Thank you.”

“You give me too much credit, you would have figured this out on your own. You're a smart man, Dean Winchester. Now, I love you but don’t you have something else you'd rather be doing today than chatting with your siblings?” Her smile is teasing and Dean understands, not for the first time, why his brother is so very smitten with her.

“There isn’t anything I'd rather be doing at the moment but yes, there's something I would like to do now. Hope to see you soon!” After signing off Dean sits for a moment in silence, forming a plan of action.

Last night, after Cas abruptly left, Dean was at a loss as to what had happened. As he sits in his kitchen now, he wonders if maybe he had pushed things a little too far with the dancing. Or maybe, Cas isn’t attracted to him at all. So many things to think about.

An hour later, Dean has a backpack full of the fruits of his labor in his kitchen that morning. He meanders through Grant Park, enjoying the sunshine. He digs his phone out of his pocket at the sound of an incoming text.

**Unknown number: Dean, I feel the need to explain my actions last night. Are you free today?**

Well, he thinks, that saves him from calling Capone’s and coming up with an excuse to get the man’s number. Dean turns with his back to Buckingham Fountain, smiles into his phone and snaps a picture. He sends the image to Cas with the message **Kelly was ok but I always had a thing for Bud Bundy.**

He hits send, updates then contact info and puts away his phone before settling onto a nearby bench. Dean loses all track of time as he watches the people milling about the park, the soft sounds of water spraying in the fountain. He thinks nothing of the shadow that falls across his body, that is until his direct line of vision is filled with a pair of deliciously thick thighs barely contained in a pair of blue jeans. A deep voice is the only thing that manages to tear his eyes away. “Who's Bud Bundy?”

Dean lets out a loud bark of laughter that quickly turns into a coughing fit when his eyes travel up the rest of Cas’s body. He's wearing a pale blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The top two buttons are open revealing a small patch of tan skin. Slung over his shoulder, hanging from one finger is a maroon leather jacket. His eyes are obscured by a pair of dark sunglasses.

Dean pats his chest as his coughing subsides. Dean has only ever seen in him work attire which mainly consists of dress pants and baggy long sleeved shirts. “ _Married…with Children_?” When Cas remains silent Dean continues. “It was a television show, the opening credits featured that fountain.” He points behind Cas. “Nevermind, it was a lame joke.”

“No, I’m probably the lame one in this instance. I wasn’t allowed to watch much tv growing up and now that I’m an adult I have little interest in it. Mind if I join you, Dean?” He points with his chin to the bench.

Dean’s back springs off the bench, he moves his back pack and sets it onto the ground next to his feet. “Yeah, of course. Please.”

Once he's seated next to Dean he turns his body to fully engage in conversation. “Dean, about last night, I-"

Dean places a hand on Cas’s thigh and immediately regrets the action and removes it. He won't be forming anything resembling a coherent sentence with that muscle under his hand. “Can we not right now. I mean, I do, want to…to talk, I mean. But could we maybe wait for a little while? Just maybe, I dunno, enjoy the fact we both have today off? The sun is beautiful and warm on this October day. How about it, two friends getting to know each other?”

In all actuality, Dean is afraid of what Cas has to say. He's afraid he will shoot down any hope he has of really getting to know this mysterious man. If this is the case, he wants to have one day to remember.

Dean lets out the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding when Cas answers. “Okay, what did you have planned?”

Dean picks up his bag and sets it on his lap. “I didn’t have anything planned, per say. I didn’t know if I would have company or not but in the off chance I did I packed a few snacks.”

“For a picnic?”

Dean’s cheeks turn a little pink as he looks down at his bag. “Or maybe two guys eating food together outside?”

“Sounds like a picnic.”

“Eh, you say potato I say patato.”

“What does a root vegetable have to do with this conversation? And only people who're douchebags say that. You aren’t a douchebag, Dean.” He pushes his sunglasses up onto the top of his head.

Dean doesn’t hold back the laugh that erupts out of him. “Never mind, how about we just eat?”

“Where?”

Dean pats his hand on the back of the bench. "This looks like a good place.”

Cas tilts his head to the side and silently gets up.

“Dude!” Dean borrows his brother’s favorite call of frustration.

Dean scrambles off the bench when Cas waves a hand in a swooping gesture. He follows Cas around a bend and off the paved path. He stops at a small clump of bushes arranged in a u-shape nestling a small grass clearing. “How about here?”

“This is perfect. Wait!” He cries as Cas begins to lower himself to the ground. He drops his bag and pulls out an old worn blanket he typically keeps in his car. He spreads it flat then gestures for Cas to sit down.

“Not a picnic? I’ve never actually participated in a picnic but I’m pretty sure this is what they look like.”

Dean joins him on the blanket and scrunches his face up. “Oh just shut up and eat, would ya, you smart ass?” He drops a square plastic container down in front of Cas’s crossed legs.

Dean watches Cas closely as he pulls out a container identical to the one Cas is wrapping those long fingers around and pulling off the lid. The small smile on his face falls away.

“You don’t have to eat it. I feel kind of silly about it now but-”

Cas’s head snaps up and the half smile returns. “No,” he says quietly, “this is perfect, thank you Dean.” He takes a bite and closes his eyes briefly. “Thank you,” he repeats as he takes another bite.

Dean raises his sandwich to his mouth and a glob of strawberry jelly oozes out the bottom and plops down right on the center of Dean’s chest. “Ah man, I love this shirt.” The last two words of Dean’s frustration fall off his tongue as a noise bursts from Cas.

Dean can only sit transfixed as Cas snorts in laughter. The sound alone is enough for Dean to want to pack up and call this a successful day but the cherry on the top? Cas is smiling. His lips are stretched wide revealing perfectly straight, white teeth and a good portion of pink gum above his top row. His Adam’s apple is bobbing as he continues to chuckle low in his throat. “Uh, Dean you have a little something…”

Dean swallows audibly and briefly wonders if maybe he's still in bed dreaming. He watches as Cas’s slender index finger reaches over and scoops up the jelly off Dean’s shirt and holds it steady in front of Dean’s, now gaping, mouth. This must be a dream, he thinks once again, please don't let me wake before the good part. His body moves on autopilot as he leans forward and wraps his lips around the outstretched finger. He flicks his tongue over the sweet taste of strawberries. Now he knows he's not dreaming because if he were he'd continue to suck that finger until his fingerprint ridges were smooth, then he would push Cas onto his back and kiss him until they were busted for lewd public behavior.

This isn't, unfortunately, a dream so Dean reluctantly allows Cas to remove his finger. “You know you are making it very difficult for me to act like a gentleman," he tells Castiel with a husky voice.

He shakes his head, lets out a long breath then empties out the remainder of the lunch items. “I’ve only seen you drink water and beer, I didn’t know what else you like so I brought water and iced tea.”

“Tea would be great.” He nods his head in gratitude when Dean hands him the bottle. “You went all out. Sandwiches, fruit, drinks and what's this?” Dean grabs the round Tupperware container off the blanket before Cas can touch it.

“Uh, this is dessert. Although, you may want to skip that part, this isn’t exactly a low calorie meal.”

“It’s ok to splurge every once in a while, don’t you think?” He asks as he tosses his empty sandwich container into Dean’s bag then snaps off a twig of grapes.

Dean twists off the cap of his own iced tea and downs half the bottle. Watching those grapes disappear behind Cas’s lips makes Dean long to taste more than just the tip of his finger.

“Story of my life, man. Story of my life.”

“Speaking of the story of your life, tell me a little about yourself Dean.” He pulls the sunglasses off the top of his head and tosses them down onto the blanket.

“Not much to tell. I have a brother, sister-in-law and a nephew back home,” he pauses briefly looking away and adds, “in Kansas.” He inwardly winces at the lie. “My father also lives there.” That, Dean thinks, is at least the truth. “What about you, any family around here?”

“No, it’s just me and my small apartment. I don’t have any family, at least that I’m aware of.” He doesn’t elaborate and Dean doesn’t push. “Okay, I’ll admit the suspense is getting to me, what did you bring for dessert?”

The 180 degree turn of the conversation has Dean stuttering. “Dessert? Oh right.” He picks up the round container and pops off the lid. In place of the scent of cinnamon he's expecting, his nose is filled with the light aroma of cucumber and green tea mixed with Cas’s body heat as he leans in to get a closer look at the treat Dean brought. The urge to bite at Cas’s earlobe is overpowering and yet Dean resists.

“Oh! Did you find the bakery I mentioned? Wow, this cinnamon roll is huge. I think I can feel my pancreas trembling at all the sugar.”

“You don’t have to eat it, I know it’s kind of a lot.”

Cas grabs a hold of Dean’s wrist as he pulls the pastry away. “No, please I want to try it. I've heard so many people raving about it, might as well see what all the fuss is about but how..”

“Oh!” Dean cries. He rummages in his bag with his left hand and pulls out a plastic fork and knife. “Let me.” He sets the bowl down and slices a chunk of the buttery crust thickly coated with cinnamon and sugar. He scrapes the cream cheese frosting from the knife onto the golden dough then raises the fork to Cas’s mouth.

Dean definitely does not let his imagination run wild as Cas’ lips pull off the fork and his dick definitely does not grow hard as Cas moans out loud.

“Hmmm, wow that's amazing. I've been missing out.”

Dean rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Well I’m glad you like it cause I kind of have a confession to make.” He hands the bowl over to Cas.

“What, is this from the, how did you put it, mediocre grocery store?” He spears his fork and pulls out another gooey piece.

“Actually, no, I made them.” He feels a little embarrassed now and he wishes he'd just let Cas think he had bought them from the bakery. “I made them for you, this morning,” he adds quietly.

Cas’s fork is frozen halfway to his mouth. He snaps his jaw shut and drops his hand onto his thigh, looking down into the bowl.

“They aren’t anything special I just thought it was a shame you'd never eaten a cinnamon roll.” Dean continues speaking to the top of Cas’s bent head.

“Dean.” Cas is barley speaking above a whisper, Dean imagines he can feel the vibrations of the deep tenor it has taken on. Cas shakes his head slowly before lifting it on a deep sigh.

“Oh, man I-,” words fail Dean when he glimpses the tears pooling in the blue eyes in front of him.

“Dean no one's ever,” he sets the bowl aside and scoots closer to Dean, close enough for their bent knees to touch. “No one's ever done anything like this for me before. No one's ever taken the time to make something for me like this. This is,” he gestures at the bowl before tucking his fingers into Dean’s hands, “the most thoughtful gesture and I hope to repay the kindness someday. Thank you.”

Dean squeezes Cas’s fingers before they're pulled free. He watches in silence as Cas takes a few more bites, covers the bowl and takes a long pull of tea. He can sense what's coming and he's frightened and nervous and he fights the urge to bolt from the park.

“Dean? I want to try to explain what happened last night.”

“No, you really don’t. I get it, I pushed too hard, I let my hormones lead me and I've given you a chance to-"

“No, Dean, that isn’t it. I want to explain but I just don’t know how and I’m…frustrated with myself.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Cas almost looks relieved as he answers. “Yes.”

“Are you not attracted to men? Because if not just say the word and I'll back the hell off. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

Cas shakes his head vigorously and lays a hand on Dean’s knee. “No, I’m uh, very attracted to you Dean I just don’t…”

“You can tell me anything, Cas." He tells him when Cas's words fade off. "Please, I want to understand.” He stares down at the hand on his knee. “I feel like I’m fighting gravity every time I’m near you. You have this pull over me and even if you tell me you're only interested in friendship I'll make that work. I just need to know how you feel.”

“I’ll try. I’m not very good at this.”

“Cas, my brother once told me it would be easier to extract information from a tree stump than it is to get me to talk about my feelings. It gets easier the more you do it.”

“How did you start in the first place?”

“I gained a sister who has an uncanny knack of getting into my head.”

“For you, I want to try.”

“Hey, that’s all I ask. If it's too much, then stop. No pressure.”

Cas takes a deep breath. “As I’ve mentioned, I lived in several foster homes but from the age of ten until I aged out of the system at eighteen, I lived with the same woman.”

“Is this the same bitch who put you in, and I’m only guessing here, a closet?”

Cas looks up at Dean and he swears he sees gratitude in his hooded eyes. “One and the same. She had harsh methods of enforcing her beliefs on those of us who were unfortunate enough to be placed in her care.”

“Jesus, Cas, please don’t tell me she beat you for liking guys.”

“No, she never actually laid a hand on any of her wards. There were times I thought maybe that would have been easier to deal with.”

Dean covers Cas’s hand with his own. He hopes the contact will encourage him rather than discourage him.

“You guessed correctly at her favorite form of punishment. There was a small hall closet, barely big enough for a vacuum cleaner let alone a kid my size. Anyway, she would lock us in there for any variety of reasons. At any give time, one of us would be left in there, for what felt like hours. Sitting in the dark, being completely alone not understanding why you're in there in the first place was…difficult.

I really don’t want to go into many details but I want you to know why I ran last night, Dean.” He lifts his head and Dean wishes he could cup Cas’s face and kiss away the sadness he sees etched on his on his features. “She never hit us but her emotional abuse has, I’m afraid, left deep scars in me. When I was 13 she walked in on me kissing a boy from school. She was supposed to be out grocery shopping but she came home early. From that point on, I never once heard her call me by my name. It was always pervert, abomination, disgrace or many other variations to that affect.”

“Holy Shit, Cas.” Now Dean runs a hand down the side of Cas’s face. His hand continues down his neck and shoulder until their hands link once again. Despite all the psychological training he's had with his line of work he doesn't know what to say to lend comfort. He's afraid anything he says will come out sounding like pity and he certainly does't feel pity. Anger? Yes. Admiration? Abso-fucking-lutely but definitely not pity. “That's all kinds of….wrong,” he says weakly.

He forces out a puff of air. “Yeah, so when you asked me in the truck that day if I was attracted to men or women I really couldn’t, and still can’t, give an honest answer. What I do know for certain is I'm very attracted to you but I’ve never actually been with anyone so this's all new territory for me.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up and Cas jumps in to clarify, “I mean, I’ve been with a woman. Once. But never a man. There have been times I have wanted to, explore for a lack of a better term, but any time I came close my head fills with these awful memories from my past and I just hate myself. It’s just easier emotionally to be alone.”

Dean breaks the silence that stretches between them. “How about we take a little walk? It’s been a long time since I've been here, I’m sure a few things have changed.”

Cas nods his head in gratitude and together they pack up the remainder of the meal, tossing their garbage in a near by can.

For several hours they wonder through the paths of Grant Park. Topics of conversation range from books they've read to movies Dean thinks Cas would like and they joke about customers they've dealt with at work.

By the time they've made their way back to the fountain, the sun is starting to set. The sky is splashed with shades of pink and orange. Dean slowly weaves his fingertips between Cas’s. He doesn’t hold his hand, just his fingertips. “Did you walk here?” Dean asks him as they approach the bench they started their day at.

“No, I drove my car.”

“What time do you work tomorrow?”

“I close, so two. You?”

“Same but I may go in a little early, I need to look over the proof for the new menu Mick wants printed up. I could give you a ride home, I’m parked up the road in a ramp.”

“Um, no thanks for the offer but I want the chance to clear my head a little.”

Dean is startled but not unhappy when Cas slides his hand up firmly into Dean’s palm. He steps up close to Dean, their noses almost touching. “Dean?”

“Uh, yeah Cas?”

“I really want to kiss you.”

“Well Cas, I've wanted to kiss you since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah Cas?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Close your eyes.”

Cas closes his lids and Dean leans in a little closer, allowing him time to adjust. His breathing speeds up slightly “You okay?” Cas gives the slightest of nods. “Honest?” He nods again and squeezes Dean’s hand.

Closing his own eyes, Dean leans in and presses his lips firmly to Castiel’s. They're softer than Dean had imagined they would be. He holds them together for the briefest of moments but in that brief amount of time he feels a bolt of heat shoot through their lips, down through his chest and straight to his groin. Reluctantly he pulls away, opening his eyes.

Cas’s eyes are still closed only now they're pinched and his breathing is more ragged. “Cas? Are you with me?” Dean is afraid to frighten him but he's also thinking about the names he's been called in the past. He gently lays the hand not in Cas’s vice like grip onto his cheek. He flinches slightly but doesn’t pull away. “Cas, you're the most beautiful human being I've ever encountered. I don’t know what you're hearing in your head but, please listen to me now. You're kind, smart and so fucking brave. Don’t listen to her. Listen to _me_. Hear _me._ ” His voice cracks, on the verge of tears so he's grateful when Cas finally opens his eyes.

Dean feels a hand fall lightly on his hip. The hand tightens and pulls the two of them closer together. Cas’s lips crash against Dean’s and his tongue darts across Dean’s lips. He gratefully parts them, allowing him full access. Dean allows Cas to take the lead, not wanting to push him. The taste of Castiel is intoxicating. A deep moan escapes Dean’s throat as Cas rolls his hips against Dean’s rock hard cock.

Cas breaks off the kiss and buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. His panting slows as Dean brings a hand up and combs it through his hair. “You okay?” Cas nods his head then kisses Dean lightly on the neck before pulling away.

There're wet streaks running down Cas’s cheeks and he turns his head away to dry them on his sleeve. Dean's about to jump out of his skin, watching the way he averts his eyes. He's on the verge of checking in again when Cas finally speaks.

He looks Dean in the eye and quietly says, “Thank you. That was…thank you,” is all he can manage.

Dean understands even if the words aren’t spoken out loud. “Are you okay to drive home?”

“Um, yeah, I’m good. I'll see you tomorrow?” He scrubs a hand over his face.

“I’m looking forward to it, Cas. Today was a good day.” He smiles warmly at Castiel.

Cas moves in quickly and plants one last soft peck on Dean’s mouth before pulling away completely. “Good night, Dean.”

Dean says, “Good Night,” to Cas's retreating back and flops down onto the bench. His lips are still tingling with the feel of Cas and he longs to taste him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I have visited Chicago several times, including Grant Park, I did a little embellishing on the details.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean feels a heavy weight settle over his chest as he slowly approaches Castiel. He isn’t sure if it's the way Cas’s shoulders are hunched as he stands at the Juke box or if it's the tangible tension in the air. He wants to leave, avoid whatever is causing the air around him to feel like he's sucking mud through a straw, but before he's able to turn on his heel, Castiel is facing him. Gone is the smile from the day before and there is no hint of laughter reflected in his eyes.

“Liar.” The steel in Castiel’s eyes causes Dean to flinch. He takes another step towards Dean. “Liar.” He growls again. “I trusted you. I told you things I have never told anyone.”

“Cas wait, please!” Dean’s lungs are completely void of oxygen and despite his best efforts he cannot draw in a breath. On one last attempt, Dean gasps in Cas’ name. Oxygen floods his alveoli, the tightness in his chest dissipates. His eyes snap open and stare at his bedroom ceiling, chest heaving.

He finds his hair to be drenched in sweat when he reaches up to grab the top of his head, eyes closing again. He opens them immediately upon seeing Castiel’s face. ‘Liar’ is set on repeat. Well, Dean thinks, he isn’t wrong.

Yesterday was supposed to clear things up, give Dean a clear direction and instead he finds himself deeper in the maze of confusion. Deeper in the maze and falling harder for that enigma of a man. He wonders if it would've been easier if Castiel had turned him down, told him to back the hell off. Then he thinks about that kiss. There is no denying there was a white hot fire burning between them.

‘Liar’ he thinks again. The lies he needs to tell are small but when they are woven together they feel as constricting as a true web. Will Castiel be able to see past the web of lies? Will he be able to recognize the fact that Dean has laid out his true self, despite his last name and purpose for being there? Will Dean even have the chance to explain before it all crumbles to dust? He tries to put himself in Castiel’s place, would he be able to forgive if the roles were reversed? He hopes so, but again, one never knows.

On a deep sigh, he flings his comforter aside and heads to the bathroom. As he steps under the warm spray of the shower head he tells himself it's time to bump the needle off the stuck record. He has a job to do and the faster he can finish the faster he can deal with matters of his heart.

He glances down at his hard cock, maybe there are other pressing matters that need attending to first, he thinks. On the walk home, he had managed to cool himself down by shutting out thoughts of their day together. He forced himself to think about the case, remembering to check in with Charlie and mentally planning a visit with Sam and Eileen. By the time he had fallen into bed he was physically exhausted by the many miles he had walked throughout the day.

He takes himself in hand as the memory of Castiel’s soft lips comes hurdling back at him. Bracing his forearm against the wall, he strips himself in short, quick movements. Remembering the way their cocks felt in that short thrust together. Dean gives one more twist of his wrist and paints the tile wall with a deep moan. He pants against the wall as he milks himself through his orgasm. His right hand joins his left against the wall as he steadies himself.

Once feeling has returned to his limbs he quickly finishes his shower. He wants to get to work and push away the images from his nightmare but more than anything, he wants to finish this case so that Dean Winchester can fully experience what Dean Campbell has had the pleasure of.

He pads out to the living room, towel wrapped loosely around his hips, digs through his few items of clothing until he finds something suitable for work.

There is a knock on his door as he pulls his Henley shirt over his head. His face splits into a grin after looking through the peep hole, he can’t get the chain undone fast enough. “I sure hope this doesn’t mean I'm in trouble!” He leans in to give Benny a one armed hug, the older man slapping him on the back.

“You have no idea how good it is to you both!” He tells Charlie as he folds her into a tight embrace. “Come in!” He steps aside as his friends enter the apartment.

“I don’t have a whole lot to offer you, I could make a pot of coffee.”

“Naw, man we're good. We can’t stay long we just stopped to say Hi and give ya a little reward," Benny explains.

Charlie hands Dean a set of keys. “Boss thought you may need a set of wheels. It isn’t much, its down in the garage in your designated spot, but it beats walking everywhere.”

“That’s great. Thanks!” He spins the key ring around his index finger. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” He wants them to stay longer but senses this was a drop and run.

“No, you told me last night you're scheduled to work, we don’t want to keep you.”

Dean doesn’t bother to hide the disappoint in his face as Benny walks back into the hallway. Before following suit, Charlie stands on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around Dean. “You ok, Dean?” She pulls back enough to look him in the eye.

“I’m ok, really. I’m just ready to be finished here.”

She narrows her eyes at him. "Don’t lie to me, Winchester.”

“Really, I’m ok. Seeing you both helps.”

"Ok, well I'll talk to you tonight."

With a heavy heart Dean bids them goodbye.

 

The bar is empty as Dean strolls through the front door, making a point to glance at the juke box. He heads back towards the employee break room and stops dead in his tracks at the entrance of Ketch’s office. Castiel is sitting at a table near the window, back to the door, head bent down, pen poised over the working surface. Dean’s mouth is dry and his palms are sweating, it all feels too familiar.

“Hello Dean, please come in.” Castiel does not turn around until Dean’s boots give a loud scuffing sound on the tile floor.

Dean’s body relaxes at the shy smile Cas is giving him. “How did you know I was here?”

“I could smell cinnamon.”

“What? Cinna…. Oh yeah, I forgot to send this with you yesterday.” He raises the forgotten bowl in his hand. “I was a little distracted.” He feels the heat race up his neck and spread to the tips of his ears.

“Oh,” he cocks his head to the side. “Nothing serious I hope.” The shy smile turns into a smirk punctuated by an arch of his eyebrow as he turns back around.

“Yeah, you're hilarious.” Dean takes a few steps forward. “What are you working on?”

“The new menu proofs, I think they look presentable.”

Dean glances over his shoulder at the layout. “Looks pretty similar to the last one. Ooh Bangers and mash, now that’s what I’m talking about!”

Cas scrunches his nose up at Dean. “Isn’t that basically just sausage and mashed potatoes?”

“Ah yes, dear boy, but add some cabbage to that mash and you have one hell of a dish.” An Irish brogue calls from the office doorway, causing both men to jump. Dean quickly removes the hand on the base of Cas’ neck, he wasn’t even aware he had made the comfortable gesture.

If Mick notices he doesn't let on. “Not a fan of Irish cuisine, Cas?”

He shrugs as he stands, handing the menu to Mick. “I wouldn’t say that, I've never tried many dishes.”

“That needs to change, Cas you're missing out!” Dean tells him as his eyes grow wide. “Back home in Kansas there was this Irish Pub I frequented. Best bangers and mash I’ve ever had. Oh, and their Shepard’s pie was to die for!” He cups his hand around his mouth and in a very loud whisper he adds. "I'll admit I’m not a big fan of the mutton though, I prefer ground beef.”

Mick slaps Dean on the back. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted with a Scottish name like Campbell!”

Dean inwardly winces at the truth behind his words. “I’ve never been able to prefect the gravy, I hope you have a recipe in mind.”

“No worries, Dean. I have my Ma’s recipe and I would be happy to walk you through it.”

“Great. Hey what're you doing here anyway? I didn’t think you were on the schedule.”

Mick removes his hand from Dean’s back and sets the schedule down on the desk. He shrugs out of his jacket and drapes it on the desk chair. “I’m not but the Bears are playing this afternoon so I thought maybe I would help out in the kitchen freeing you up to help Cas out front.” He sits down in the chair. “If you don’t mind? I can tend tables if you want a little more time at the grill.”

“No, that’s fine with me. Thanks, I didn’t even realize there was a game today.”

“I know Cas doesn’t watch but you aren’t a football fan either, Dean?”

“Nah, a little baseball if I’m in the mood but that’s as far sports goes for me. You?”

He shakes his head as he picks up a file folder, “Nah, I have little interest in American football. But it's good for business, wouldn’t you say?”

“It is indeed. Speaking of, we better get out there.”

He gives Cas and Dean a short wave. “Holler if you need me. I’m just going to work on payroll until kick off.”

Dean drops Cas's cinnamon roll in the employee room fridge before heading to the front. The two men, walking side by side with fingers almost touching, are just stepping behind the counter when the bell over the door dings softly.

Dean is very grateful he's trained at keeping his inner thoughts close to the vest. If he didn’t know any better already he would think the newcomer was living on the streets. His cloths are baggy and faded, his hair is a wild mess and his grey goatee is long overdue for a trim. Dean washes his hands at the small sink under the counter, dries them then sets a napkin down in front of the short, portly man. “What’s your poison today?” he asks in lieu of a greeting. From the opposite end of the bar, Dean hears Cas suck in an audible breath while he busies himself filling baskets of pretzels.

“Oh, I don’t know, just give me whatever is most popular you have on tap.”

Dean selects a tall pilsner glass and pulls from the tap. He sets the glass down on the napkin then strolls causally to Cas. He plucks at a basket, gives Cas a wink then strolls back to their customer. “Care for a little snack?” The man nods his head slightly.

“Pretzels, what an interesting choice.”

The fact that this schmuck is on dozens of wanted lists baffles Dean. “Not that you asked, but my take is popcorn goes stale too quickly and peanuts can be a hazard to clientele. I think pretzels are a reasonable alternative on management’s part.” Dean mentally pats himself on the back, even Dean Campbell is capable of kissing ass when appropriate.

Metatron points one of the twisted treats at Dean. “You may be onto something, young man.”

Internally Dean fights the urge to punch the greasy looking guy out; externally he paints his best customer service smile on and cheerfully tells him to let him know when he's ready for a refill.

He steps down from the bar, catches Cas’s eye and winks again because frankly, he really loves the way the handsome devil averts his eyes and shakes his head in bewilderment.

Mick wanders in just as the room is starting to fill with customers looking for beer, football and burgers. Dean has been keeping a close eye on Metatron’s movements and now he adds Mick to his close scrutiny. He watches as Mick first glances at Metatron hunched over his beer, his eyes widen in surprise. To his credit, the younger man’s step never falters as he nonchalantly walks up to the criminal and holds out his hand in greeting.

The two men have a brief exchange as Dean continues to hand out menus and write down orders. He pretends to be oblivious to what is occurring around him. He purposefully glances up as Mick leads Metatron to the back hall. He notices Dean looking at him and holds up an index finger indicating he'd be back in a minute. Dean gives him a nod and approaches the bar.

Cas leans over and hisses at Dean. “Do you know who that is?” His eyes are wide and the lines on Cas’s forehead run very deep, Dean would laugh if he wasn’t aware of how stressed out Cas was.

“Who?”

“That guy you were discussing the virtues of bar snacks with,” he all but hisses.

“I dunno, a customer? I was just making small talk, it’s what _most_ bartenders do. Geez, you're really cute when you get flustered. What’s your deal?” He knows it isn’t very nice but he can’t help laying on the “playing dumb” a little thick.

“My deal? Dean, that’s Metatron!”

Dean makes a point to look behind Cas towards the back office. “Cas I don’t know what you were smoking before work this morning but please share. That little guy hardly looks like a man made out of metal.” Cas’s hands are splayed out flat on the bar, knuckles white as he pushes down. Dean covers them with his own hands. “Ok calm down before you blow a blood vessel. I bite, who's Metatron? And what kind of name is that anyway?”

Cas pulls his hands out from under Dean’s cover and runs them through his hair. “He's our boss.”

“I thought you said our boss was someone named Ketch.”

“The owner, Metatron is the _owner_.”

Now Dean feels really bad for secretly teasing Cas, he didn’t expect him to get so worked up. “Okay, everything's okay. So what? It isn’t like I did anything wrong. I was polite, I served. End of story.”

Cas studies Dean’s face briefly before finally relaxing. “I guess you're right. I just, I don’t know, I need this job and I feel like I have a big neon sign above my head saying, 'I kissed a boy and I liked it'.”

Dean lets out a soft laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever worn cherry chap stick but I have the same sign above me. Makes me happy.” He waits until Cas finally smiles before continuing. “Now, stop flirting with me Mr. Novak, we have work to do. Didn’t you hear? The boss is here.” He winks at Cas again and heads to the kitchen.

Mick enters the kitchen as Dean snaps the last of the orders clutched in his hand up into the ticket holder. “Sorry about that Dean, I’ll take care of these, you can head back up front.”

“No problem. Hey, Mick, Cas told me that was the owner. I didn’t know that, I hope I didn’t say or do anything stupid back there.”

Mick’s ice blue eyes look up from the hot grill. “No, you did fine. He was in the neighborhood and stopped in to check up. He'll probably be gone in a few minutes. Really, no worries.”

“Ok, thanks. I’ll be back for those orders shortly.”

He's just passed the office when he hears a voice behind him. “Mr. Campbell, I presume?” This time Dean admits to himself he's a little more caught off guard and he's grateful his back is turned.

Dean slowly turns on his heel, plastering a quizzical look on his face. “Yes, that’s me. May I ask how you know my name?” He knows exactly who this tall, broad chested man in the three-piece suit is.

The James Bond wanna-be studies Dean thoughtfully before extending his perfectly manicured hand, “Ketch, Arthur Ketch.”

Dean puts forth his best chagrined face and firmly grasps the man’s hand. “My apologizes, Sir, I didn’t know.”

“No need to apologize, Mr. Campbell. Mick has had nothing but positive things to say since your arrival here. I trust you are settling in here?”

“Thank you, uh yes I am.”

“Well don’t let me keep you, I only wanted to extend my own welcome to you.” What _appears_ to be a smile, flits across the Britt’s face but Dean finds it unsettling how it never reaches his eyes. He makes his exit hastily.

“Cas!” Now Dean is the one hissing over the bar, not entirely faking his stress level. “Ketch is here!”

The color drains from Cas’s face. “What? How did I miss his entrance? What did he say to you?”

“Not much, he just wanted to introduce himself, I guess.”

“Could this night get any worse?” Cas mutters as he walks away.

“Uh, Cas, I’m going to hit the head. I’ll be right back.” Cas acknowledges Dean with a raised hand above his head.

Once safely behind a locked door, Dean pulls out his personal phone and taps out a message to Charlie.

 **Dean: Metatron and Ketch in the house.** He waits impatiently for a response.

**Charlie: Head down, eyes and ears open. Business as usual. Check in after your shift, sooner if you need assistance.**

**Dean: 10-4 good buddy.**

**Charlie: Can you feel me rolling my eyes?**

Upon completion of the football game the bar empties out quickly. “There's an upside to them losing,” Cas calls to Dean as he wipes down the last table, “people empty out quickly.”

“Why Castiel, I do believe this's the first I’ve ever heard you look on the optimistic side of life.”

Dean throws a bar towel at Cas when he flips him the bird. “Oh, and showing your mature side as well.” He leans in close, breathing in deeply the smell of Cas’s chest. “The more of this side I see of you, the more I want to see…other parts of you…Castiel.” Dean takes a nip at Cas’s neck before he pulls away, eyes wide.

“Dean! Ketch and Mick are right down the hall!”

“Ask me if I care, Cas. I blame you for wearing those jeans again today.” He quickly walks past Cas and grabs a fist full of his left ass cheek. A bar towel promptly hits him in the back of the head.

“I could turn you in for sexual harassment you know.”

Dean pushes a few buttons on the Juke box before walking away with a satisfied look on his face. “I don’t think it can be construed as harassment if both parties are ready and willing.” He nods his head towards Cas who shifts uncomfortably, his jeans decidedly tighter now.

“Nice work tonight, guys. One of you're welcome to head home if you'd like.” He eyes them both, “Or not. Up to you. I'm heading home. Count up the till and Ketch will take it before he leaves for the night.”

“Thanks again for helping out,” Cas tells Mick as he heads out the door.

“No problem, I owe you more than that, I’m sure. Til tomorrow.”

Dean grabs a bank bag from behind the cash register and begins to thumb through the bills, counting as he goes. His thumb pauses, then shuffles back a few bills. “Oh shit.” He doesn’t mean to speak out loud, the words are out before his brain can catch up to what his fingers have already discovered.

Cas asks “What?”

“Is there a problem, Mr. Campbell?” A second voice asks.

Double shit, Dean thinks. He runs through a debate with himself at rapid speed. He knows there's a counterfeit $50 bill here. Does he make up some excuse for his outburst? Something along the lines of “Oh nothing, I just realized today's my father’s birthday and I never called him.” Or does he tell Ketch the truth? What if this is a test? What if there are cameras he isn’t aware of? What if he's holding a piece of his case that can accelerate him to the end?

Captain Turner’s instructions ring in his ears, _“If you see or hear anything, no matter how small the detail, I want you to pass it along. Do not follow up on your own.”_

“Well, Sir, possibly.” He places the wad of bills into the bank bag and hands over the false bill to Ketch. “I’m not 100% positive but I believe this may be fake.”

“And how did you reach this conclusion, Mr. Campbell?”

“It looks okay but it feels…different.” There isn’t a doubt in Dean’s mind this isn’t real but he needs the other man to believe otherwise.

“Hmmm.” Ketch studies it for so long, Dean begins to get a little agitated. Seeing Cas out of the corner of his eye doesn't help matters. He isn’t able to read his face but his body language is reaching him loud and clear. “I do believe you are correct. Nice catch.”

  
“I dunno about that,” he rubs the back of his neck, “it probably would've been better if I caught it sooner than now.”

“Dean,” Cas speaks up, “it could've easily been me who accepted it.”

Dean opens his mouth to protest but Ketch beats him to it.

“No worries, it could have happened to any of us. I’ll take care of this.” He accepts the bag from Dean then nods at each of them in turn. “Mr. Campbell, Mr. Novak. Well done tonight. Have a good evening.” Without another word he's gone.

Cas drops down onto a bar stool with a loud moan. “Holy shit. I'm toast.”

Dean closes the till before propping his forearms in front of Cas. He brings his face within inches of the dark haired man. There're small beads of sweat dotted along the bridge of his nose. Dean is also, for the first time, noticing the dark patches under Cas’s eyes. “Hey,” he says quietly, taking Cas’s chin gently between his fingers, forcing him to look up, “it'll be okay.”

“Dean, what if-"

“Cas, it'll be ok,” he repeats. Dean isn’t just saying this to make the man feel better, his gut is telling him it really will be alright. He ignores the part of his brain that's royally pissed off he couldn’t turn the bill over to the Captain. “You heard him, it could've been any of us. We were swamped tonight. I’m sure that isn’t the first time it's happened, probably won’t be the last.”

He's holding Cas’s chin firmly now because Castiel's trying to break eye contact. He runs the pad of his thumb up and down the cleft in Cas’s chin. What he wouldn’t give to be able to run his tongue over it right now, he thinks. Instead, he uses his thumb hoping to calm him. It seems to help because he finally relents.

“If you say so Dean, I’ll believe it.”

‘Ouch’ is all Dean can think as he lets go of his chin.

“So what now, Cas? You gonna head home? I don’t think anyone else will be coming through those doors.” He holds his breath, waiting on an answer.

“No, I think I’ll stay here and, for the first time ever, take advantage of an employee perk.” He leans over the counter and grabs the closest bottle, which happens to be tequila, and slams it down on the counter.

“Do that again,” Dean deadpans. His knees have gone weak at what he just caught a glimpse of.

“Do what?”

“Reach for a shot glass.” He gives Dean a look like he's lost his mind but he still follows his order.

Dean watches as he pushes up to drape his body over the counter. He waits until Cas’s arm is fully extended before making his move. He leans in close and plants his mouth firmly over the small patch of skin exposed, sucking at the prominent hip bone peeking out from the top of Cas’s jeans.

The sound of glass breaking forces him to pull away but not before running his flat tongue over the salty skin.

“Dean! What're you doing?” He slides off the bar and drops back down onto the stool.

“Fuck, Cas I want to take you right here across this bar.”

“Dean.” Cas warns.

“Uh, sorry. Um, let me clean this up. Here.” He hands Cas a shot glass before reaching for the small dust pan and broom. He avoids Cas’s eye as he listens to him slam down a shot.

“That's awful,” he moans. He slams down another then pushes the bottle away. “I won't be having any more of that. What do you suggest, Dean?”

Dean returns the dust pan and washes his hands. “Depends on your end goal.”

“I need something to help me sleep.” He's fiddles with the empty shot glass.

Dean studies the dark circles under Cas’s eyes. “When's the last time you slept a full night?” Concern is starting to seep deeply into Dean’s chest.

Cas waves a hand at Dean. “Not important. Be a dear and fetch me a beer?” he says in what sounds to be a poor impersonation of Ketch.

Despite his concern, Dean grins at Cas. “Are you already buzzed?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’m not what you call a seasoned drinker.” Dean hands him a bottle and Cas tips it towards Dean before taking a long pull. “Or one at all, really.”

Dean leans on his forearms again, bringing his face dangerously close to Cas. The mingled aroma of sweat, tequila and hops is making Dean wish he was the beer bottle currently held tight between Cas's lips. How he longs to be the cause of that Adams apple bobbing. His dirty thoughts are interrupted when Cas speaks. His words are slightly slurred already. Two shots and a beer, what a cheap date.

“Do you find him attractive?”

Dean's confused. “Who?”

Cas looks at Dean sideways, his one eyebrow arches. “Mick.”

“I dunno, I’ve never thought about it.”

“Do now. Think about it, I mean.”

“Why?”

“Just curious.”

“I guess so. He certainly isn’t difficult to look at. I’ve been a little preoccupied by someone else to really notice though.”

“Isn’t his accent a turn on?”

“Cas! I’m not a girl! What’s with the questions, anyway? You're kind of geeking me out.”

He gets up to retrieve another beer before addressing Dean’s question. “I guess I've been thinking more about sex since we first met.”

“Uh, yeah, so have I!”

“No, I don’t mean the act of sex I mean sexual attraction. Don’t you think I’m weird?”

“No, do I need to spell it out for you what I think of you? I just licked your fucking hip, Cas. Weird's not on the list of descriptive words I would use.”

“You don’t find it odd that I've never been sexually attracted to anyone until I met you?”

“No. It just means you've exceptional taste in partners.” Dean wags his eyebrows up and down. “I am adorable, you know.”

Cas snorts. “I also admire how modest you are.”

By the time he finishes off his second beer, his eye lids are at half mass. “Dean I’m…”

Dean waits for Cas to finish his sentence. When it becomes apparent he won't be doing so, Dean speaks up. "What Cas? You need to speak the rest of that sentence out loud, we haven’t been together long enough for me to finish your sentences for you.”

“Dean...I’m scared.”

“I know,” he responds quietly.

“You don’t think less of me?”

“Quite the opposite, actually. I think you're very brave. I know this,” he wags his index fingers in opposite directions between the two of them, “isn’t easy for you but here you are.”

“Yeah, here I am taking the cowards way out. I’m getting wasted instead of doing what I really want to be doing.”

“And what is it you want to be doing, Castiel?”

The empty beer bottle slips out of Cas’s fingers and rolls to the floor. “Say that again, Dean.”

Dean bends over to pick up the bottle and tosses it into the recycle bin. “Say what?”

“My full name.”

“Oh.” Dean stammers. “ _Oh!_ ” he repeats as he looks at Cas. He steps around the bar and slots his thigh between his knees. Dean sets his hands over Cas’s hips and leans forward with his torso, their chests almost touching. He lowers his voice. “Castiel?” Feeding on the way Cas’s body shudders he says it again. “Castiel. Tell me," he pauses and gives into his own need to taste and runs his tongue up through the cleft of his chin, the feel of the slight stubble sending pin pricks of desire through his own spine, “Tell me what you _want_.”

Cas’s eyes are shut, his lids are still relaxed and Dean watches for signs of distress. “Tell me what you want, Castiel. You're safe with me. I won’t hurt you, I only want to make you feel good. Tell me what you want.”

“I can’t!" his voice comes out in a harsh pant and the muscles around his eyes pinch tightly.

Dean moves his thigh back slightly and his hand goes up to cup Cas’s face. “Baby, can you tell me what's going through your head?”

Cas lets out a low whimper.

Dean hopes he's not doing anything to cause Cas anymore stress or damage to his already fragile state of being. His gut has never steered him wrong in the past and right now it's telling him to keep going.

He runs one hand through Cas’s mass of thick dark hair. Cas leans into Dean’s touch which gives him the courage he needs to push forward. “Cas I think we need to get you home. You've had quite a bit to drink and I’m afraid of how you are going to feel in the morning.” He pulls Cas up off the stool. “Let’s get you in a chair. I need to close up then we'll leave together.”

Once on his feet Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and buries his face in the side of his neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

He reaches up and pulls Cas’s arms off his neck, he doesn’t want to lose that feeling but standing in the middle of their work place probably isn’t the greatest place to be having this moment. “Please don’t say that. Never be sorry for how you feel. How you feel is _important_.”

"It's never mattered before," he mutters before finally opening his eyes. His statement and how his blue is dull and full of pain makes Dean's heart ache.

"Well it matters a great deal to me." He leads him to a table, grabs a bottle of water from the cooler and sets it on the table. “Drink this while I finish up.” He kisses the top of Cas’s head and hurries off to finish closing.

Less than ten minutes later they're standing out front and Dean is folding Cas into a taxi. “Come home with me, Dean.” He hesitates briefly but caves when he sees the sadness in Cas’s eyes.

“Okay, if only to make sure you get home in one piece.”

Cas gives the driver his address and they sit in silence during the short trip. Dean's never asked Cas where he lives, he never wanted him to feel like he was invading his personal space. Less than two miles later, Dean is paying the driver and he's following Cas up the front steps of a four unit apartment building.

It takes him a few tries but he manages to get the door unlocked and the living room light on. Castiel’s apartment isn’t a studio like Dean’s but it doesn’t appear to be much bigger. To the right of the front door is a small living room, to the left is a small hallway that has three doors. Past the entrance to the hall is a small kitchen.

"Water, aspirin and sleep, in that order, Cas." Dean tells the man now stumbling down the short hallway. He follows him to the first hallway door on the right, which turns out to be a bedroom.

Castiel turns quickly and presses his lips against Dean’s. His tongue licks across the seal, probing its way in. Dean’s hands wrap around Cas’s waist and run up his back, under his shirt. He can feel the muscles ripple and a deep moan bubbles up his throat. His fingertips dig into soft skin as he pulls Cas closer, their tongues slashing together in desperate need. On an open mouth kiss, Dean moans around Cas’s name. “You taste so good, I can’t get enough.” He pulls his mouth away and moves down his neck, sucking lightly over his pulse point.

He feels Cas reach down and grasp the hem of his shirt, he's pulling it over Dean’s head before he has a chance to stop him. He tosses it aside then removes his own shirt. “Cas, we really shouldn’t...” his words fade as he looks at the chest before him. He surges forward and flicks his tongue over his right nipple. Cas gasps loudly, reaching up and gripping Dean’s hair. He pulls them both onto the bed and Dean wastes no time lapping at the left nub. He rolls it in his teeth and gently bites down as Cas lets out another gasp of Dean’s name, rocking his hips against Dean’s thigh. “Oh, someone likes that. He moves back to the right nipple and repeats the gentle bite while his fingers play with the left. “I wonder what else you like.”

Dean glances up at Cas’s face. “I wish you could see how beautiful you are. I could run my fingers through your hair all day.” His actions mirror his words as he cards his fingers through to the back of his head. “And those lips." He presses his own lightly against his. "Your eyes are the most stunning window into your soul.” He leans down and begins to lay feather light kisses along his jaw up towards his earlobe. In between kisses the words tumble off Dean’s tongue in a rushed whisper. _Beautiful, strong, kind, funny._

Cas is whimpering by time Dean has reached his ear. Cas’s hips grind again as Dean traces his ear with his hot, wet tongue. “I want to make you feel good, Castiel.” As he makes his way down Cas’s jaw and up towards the other ear his mantra of whispered words continues but now Cas’s hips have slowed and his hands are gripping Dean’s back tightly. “You okay, Cas?”

Dean opens his eyes to look at Cas’s face. Definitely _not_ okay. Dean shifts his lower body off of Cas, keeping their chests together he cups Cas’s face again. Mimicking what he'd done back at work, his hand comes up to run through his hair. “Cas, I got you. You're safe, I’m not going to hurt you. I need you to tell me if you're okay. Just nod, that’s all I need right now.”

It takes him a moment but Cas nods his head.

“Good. That’s good. Cas, can I ask you something? I want you to be completely honest with me. Whatever you say, I'll be fine with as long as it's honest. Can you do that for me?”

He nods his head again, eyes still closed.

“Cas I find you very attractive. I very much want to be intimate with you, in a variety of different ways.” Cas’s body stiffens but Dean continues. “Cas, do you think less of me for finding you attractive?”

Cas shakes his head no without hesitation.

“Thank you." He pauses to kiss the freckle below Cas's left nipple. "Do you think I'm a bad person for wanting to be intimate with you?”

He doesn’t move so Dean tries “Do you think I'm a bad person for wanting to be intimate with another man?”

This time he shakes his head no without hesitation.

“Cas?”

Nothing.

“Castiel? Will you please open your eyes? I miss them.”

Dean can see it pains him but he pries open his lids. “Hi.” He smiles softly and kisses the tip of Cas’s nose. “Thank you.”

“Dean I-”

Dean lays a finger over Castiel's lips. “Shh, I need you to answer me one more question. Again, all I ask for is honestly.”

Cas nods his head.

“If you feel it's okay for me to be attracted to _you_ why is it not okay for you to feel the same way about me? Why does that make you bad?”

Silence. Cas’s eyes are darting back and forth between Dean’s, his brow is furrowing and Dean can almost hear the wheels spinning, can almost feel the battle ranging within him. “Let me answer for you. You're not bad. You're a kind, sweet, funny man who's attracted to another human being and that's  _good_.”

Castiel’s eyes close again but Dean continues speaking, he punctuates each of his words with a kiss. Dean knows the vocabulary tonight is simple but his message is quite simple. “You're good. You're smart.”

Cas’s shakes his head back and forth, causing Dean to raise his voice a little more. Dean's now fighting back tears as he thinks about a little boy locked away in a closet. All the boy wants is someone to acknowledge his existence.

“I’m want to chase that bitch away forever because _you_ , Castiel Novak, are worthy of being loved. _You_ are worthy of being cared for.” He can no longer fight the tears running down his face. Under him, Cas forces out a long breath, his face scrunches up and his hands blindly seek out Dean’s shoulders. He finds them and pulls Dean down until he's able to bury his face into the crook of Dean's neck. Dean pushes his hands behind Cas and holds him as tight as he can. Cas’s body trembles as he finally lets go. He sobs against Dean’s skin, letting go years of built up shame.

Dean holds on and will hold on as long as he needs him to. “I got you, Cas. I got you and I’m not letting go. You're okay.” He rolls first onto his side and then onto his back, pulling Cas with him. His hands stroke over his head then up and down his back all the while repeating, "You are okay, you are good. I got you.”

It isn't long before Cas's tears have tapered to sniffles. Dean wonders when his words morphed into humming. He smiles at the feel of a fingertip tracing, what he assumes is his freckle pattern. He leans down and kisses the top of Cas's head, squeezing his arms tight around his shoulders. He looks to the left and snakes an arm over to grab a tissue off the small bedside table.

Cas pushes up to his elbow after accepting the tissue. He wipes his eyes then nose. "Thank you, Dean, that was... thank you."

Dean's fingers run down the side of Cas's face. "You good?" He knows it's a loaded question but he needs to say _something_.

Castiel looks Dean straight in the eye and tells him, "I will be. I think for the first time in my life I can say I will be."

Dean shifts to move off the bed. "Cas you really should get some sleep, it's been a long stress filled day."

Cas clamps a hand down onto Dean's bicep, "Wait, please."

Dean stops. "Tell me what you need Cas. If it's in my power I'll give it. For you, always."

"Will you." He pauses before trying again. "Can you please stay here with me tonight? I don't want to be alone."

Dean's face softens into a smile. "Yes, I can definitely do that. Before you sleep there are a few things that need to be taken care of. Are you good with me going into your kitchen?"

"Of course. Get whatever you need."

Dean heads to the small kitchen and opens the fridge. He isn't surprised to find the shelves spotless and the few items there all neatly aligned.

He hears a door close and he figures Cas's in the bathroom. He digs out his cellphone and taps out a quick message to Charlie.

**Dean: Something came up that needs my attention. Unable to call. All is fine, nothing to report that can't wait til tomorrow.**

He hits send then powers off the phone. He still has his other phone if there's an emergency.

He grabs a bottle of water as he hears the toilet flush from down the hall.

He approaches Cas from behind as he exits the bathroom.

"Cas do you have any aspirin?"

"Bathroom medicine cabinet." His answer is simple like Dean's been here numerous times.

Dean uses the toilet, washes his hands, grabs the little bottle off the shelf and walks across the hall to Castiel's bedroom.

Cas is in bed, still shirtless. In place of his jeans are sleep pants. There's a pair of sweatpants draped over Dean's pillow. 

Dean hands the water and pill bottle to Cas. "I would suggest you drink that down and take a few of these. Today was rough and the booze will not be your friend in the morning."

He watches Cas follow his advice. He hesitates only briefly before dropping his jeans. He stands in his boxer briefs, holding up the soft pants, "Thanks."

Cas nods his head and watches Dean from the corner of his eye. This does't go unnoticed by Dean as he climbs into bed beside Castiel.

They scoot down and as if they've done this every night for years past, Cas slides under Dean's waiting arm. 

"Cas, when was the last time you slept?" He's thinking about the dark circles under his eyes again.

"Honestly, I don't remember."

"Try to sleep tonight. Let me take watch tonight. You sleep." It sounds corny to Dean's ear but really what he means to convey to Cas is what he's been telling all along. "I got you."

Dean falls asleep with a satisfied smile on his face as Cas softly snores against his chest.

 

 @@@@@

Warmth, followed by a jolt of electricity pops Dean's eyes open. The sun is streaming through the window and the birds are singing. Neither of these details are noticed by Dean, no he only notices the way Castile's flat palm feels as it skims over his chest and abdomen.

He sucks in air through his teeth followed by "Mmmm. Well good morning." 

Cas looks up shyly, his tongue just about to pass over Dean's belly button. "Don't stop on my account." Dean repeats the "Mmmm" sound as Cas's tongue dips in then sucks at the skin around his navel. His hips thrust forward ever so slightly. "Careful, you are very close to a mine field."

"You know, Dean, we have several hours before we have to be back at work. Whatever should we do in that time?" Instead of waiting for an answer he pushes up to his knees, straddles Dean's waist, bends himself in half and runs his tongue from Dean's belly button and up his abdomen.

"Oh. oh fuuck. You can wake me up this way every morning." Every nerve ending in Dean's body comes alive as Cas takes Dean's nipple between his soft, plump lips.

"Wait. Cas, stop."

Cas looks horrified, "Did I do something wrong?"

Dean regrets putting any type of fear, even if unfounded, in Cas's eyes. "No. Fuck no. You're definitely doing something very right."

"Then why stop?"

He tugs Cas up towards his head by his bicep, he's floored by the firm muscle. "Holy hell, who knew you were packing these guns?!?" He pushes up to a seated position, his back against the wall, Cas sits up but remains facing the other man.

"I'd like to show you what else I'm packing."

"Believe me, I want to see that as well but first I think we need to talk for a minute."

"Really Dean?" His voice drops low and the irritation present sends a surge of heat through Dean's dick.

"Please, humor me. Last night, I-"

"Dean I don't want to talk about it. I just want to move forward."

"No, I get that but I need to say this. Last night I let my desire lead me and I wasn't thinking clearly enough. Yesterday was, let's face it, a clusterfuck of stress with both our bosses there. I knew you hadn't slept much and I could tell you were anxious. When you started drinking I should've put you in a cab but there's something about you that sends my reasonable brain out the window."

"It seems you have the same effect on me."

"Cas, I can't let that happen again."

His body tenses and his eyes grow wide. Dean rushes forward, kissing his mouth. "You aren't getting rid of me that easy."  Cas relaxes back into Dean's grip at his arm. "What I mean is, I can't push you like that anymore. I need to know when," he grasps at the appropriate wording and is grateful when Cas provides them.

"When the objects in the rearview mirror are close at hand."

"Yes , exactly." He smiles at the reference to their first conversation. "Whatever goes on between us needs to be a safe place for you to land when or if  you need it. I can't give you that if I don't to have it ready. I think we need to have some kind of, what do they call it? A safe word."

"I'm starting to feel like a fragile bird but I get what you're saying."

"You're far from fragile. I think in this case, I may be the fragile one."

"I've heard of people using colors. You know red, yellow, green."

"Yeah that should work. Let's try that. I don't want to ever leave your side, if I'm being completely honest, but I really need to pee and I wouldn't mind brushing my teeth."

Cas moves aside. "Oh course! Um, the bottom drawer of the vanity should have a spare brush. Help yourself to whatever you need. I, uh, took care of all that while you were still asleep."

When he returns from the bathroom Dean senses a shift in the atmosphere. Understanding dawn's when he spies Cas's pants at the foot of the bed. "Comfy, Cas?"

"Almost. Join me, Dean, I think I mentioned earlier I wanted to show you something."

Dean's pants are off in lightning speed. He isn't completely in the bed before Cas has surged forward and entangled him in limbs and wet hot tongue.

"Jesus, Cas I think you may be the death of me." He groans as they spread out on the bed, Cas'a body flush with his. The thin fabric of their, already wet, underwear the only barrier between them. 

Cas grinds down hard, causing Dean to see a burst of white stars at the friction.

"Dean, I don't know how long I'll last. This is nothing I've ever felt before and I don't want it to end." 

"Then let's slow down a bit." Normally Dean would prefer to have the upper hand, to lead the way but he wants nothing more than to follow Cas's lead.

Cas's hips slow to an agonizing pace while his mouth moves down Dean's neck and shoulder. "Cas, can you tell me what you want?"

Cas hovers above Dean's ear. 

"Yellow, Cas?" He asks softly when he remains still. Breath coming out in the softest of pants.

He meets Dean's eye, "It's pale but yes, yellow." 

"Very good, Babe. I'm proud of you." He kisses Cas's jaw "How about I tell you what I want?"

"Green!" His voice drops low, "Very green." He resumes his exploration of Dean's ear, grinning to himself when he sucks at the soft spot behind his lobe, causing Dean's hips to buck up. He moves up his neck again. "Green like your eyes, Dean."

Dean's mouth runs dry as Cas's blue eyes stare down at him. His pupils are blown wide. He pushes Cas's shoulder until they've switched places. He crashes down, probing his tongue deep in the heat of Cas's mouth. He sucks hard at his tongue. He bites down onto Cas's bottom lip then sucks away the sting. Cas let's out a primal moan.

"Cas I want to release that thick dick of yours." He rolls his hips. "Then I want to wrap my lips around your dripping head and swallow you down whole."

"Fuck"

"Getting there. Be patient. You good?"

"Green. So fucking green. Tell me more."

Dean reaches down between them and slips his hand past the waist band of Cas's boxer briefs. He covers Cas's mouth, swallowing down his cry when Dean wraps his hand around Cas's rock hard length. His hand slowly strokes up and down, his mouth kissing his chest, tongue lapping at nipples. "I want to taste every inch of your body. And I mean every inch." Dean knows Cas understands what that entails when he presses his ass down onto the bed.

"Once I have you squirming under me, I want to feel those long, fucking fingers in me." He brings Cas's hand up to his mouth, he pulls one then two fingers into his mouth. Sucking and licking down their length. "I want to pant your name as these works of art open up my needy hole."

"Deeean." Cas keens. 

Dean cups Cas's face, "Would you like it if I try some of that with you now, Cas?"

He nods his head so vigorously Dean's afraid he may strain a muscle. "Only if you promise to tell me if you see any shade of yellow. Promise me."

His face is flushed red from his chest all the way to his sweaty hairline. His breathing is ragged but he takes a moment to answer clearly. "I promise."

Dean needs no further motivation. He kisses and licks his way down Cas's broad chest, reveling in the tan skin and the muscle that ripples across his abdomen. His tongue dips down into his navel while his fingers hook under the waistband of the final article of clothing. He pulls them down past Cas's feet and tosses them aside.

Dean moves between his knees as they fall to the side, completely opening himself up to Dean.

His mouth is dripping with saliva as he runs his tongue from his sac to his head. "Cas you good?"

"So good. More, please Dean. More."

He kitten licks at the dripping precome then wraps his lips around the smooth skin of his head. Dean reaches down and squeezes at the base of his own cock. The first taste of Cas on his tongue had catapulted him dangerously close to his own release.

He feeds off the way his hips seem to have a mind of their own as Dean slowly sinks down his length. A moan bubbles up Dean's throat straight into Cas' dick as Dean feels Cas's fingers tug at his short hair.

"Dean I want," he corrects himself, "I need to touch you before I....ahhh. Dean, your mouth feels so damn good."

Dean pulls off. "Like that?"

Cas ignores Dean's question and reaches for his boxers. Dean pulls them off and tosses them aside as well. He crawls up the bed towards Cas, enjoying the way Cas salivates at the sight of Dean's hard cock swinging between his legs.

Dean leans in close to Cas's ear, "I'm all yours, Cas. Do what you want to do."

Cas swallows but doesn't move. "You don't have to do anything, I'm happy to go back to what I was doing."

"No! I want to."

Dean doesn't point out the fact Cas has now, not once, but twice given voice to his own needs. Dean is very proud of him. He shifts to his side and rests his neck in his propped up hand, allowing Cas to take all the time he needs.

He glances up at  Dean before reaching out with a hand that's trembling slightly. Dean's head falls to his arm on a loud moan at the feel of instant relief. Cas strokes his fist up and down. "Oh Cas, it's like your hand was made to fit around me." He thrusts up into Cas's tight fist. "Ugh, I don't know how much longer I can hold out. You wreck me, Cas."

"Dean I liked..."

"When I sucked you?"

"No. I mean yes but I really liked when." he draws in a deep breath, "I want to feel the weight of your body on me."

"Oh Cas, your wish is my command." He flings his thigh over and shifts his hips til their bodies are flush again. Their hips are grinding, cocks slotting perfectly together. The saliva and precome sliding them together in unison.

"Deeean!" He growls.

"You with me Cas?"

"Right there. So close."

Dean braces his weight on his left elbow, fingers weaving in Cas's hair. He snakes his right hand between their bodies and takes them both in the palm of his hand. He covers Cas's mouth with his own, tongues and hot breath exchanging. Cas meets Dean thrust for thrust. Later Dean will be amazed at how easily they found their rhythm together but for now they're both chasing their impending release. 

On the fourth thrust Cas's hips stutter, on a long groan he throws his head back and paints his chest with long, thick ropes of come.  Dean latches his mouth over Cas's exposed throat and mixes his cum with Cas's.

He milks them through the aftershocks then collapses onto Cas's chest as the strength gives out of his arm.

"I'll clean us up. I just need a minute."

"Take all the time you need, Dean. I don't think I'm completely in my body yet."

"Wow." Dean says quietly on his first look at his lover.

"That bad?" He runs a hand through his hair and grimaces.

"No good. You're stunning." He leans in and kisses his swollen lips. "Mmm and you taste so good." He rolls off the bed. "Washcloths?"

"Hall closet."

Dean returns with a warm cloth and gently wipes Cas' chest and groin and then his own. He sets the cloth aside and grabs his boxers. "As much as I would love to spend the day in bed with you I really need to get home and shower before we're due back at work."

"Sometimes I hate being an adult."

"Me too, Babe. Me too but think of all the perks of being an adult."

"You got me there. Hand me something to put on and I'll walk you out the door."

Dean zips up his jeans and grabs his shirt. "No need. I want you," he leans in to kiss him again, this time with a lazy tongue, "to go back to sleep. You still have time. Then I want you to eat a decent meal. If there was time I would fix you something but for now, raincheck?"

Cas smirks, "I suppose that's acceptable."

"Good. Hey Cas, thanks. That was amazing."

"Understatement. More to come, I hope."

Dean shakes is head at Cas's joke. "Uh oh, you already sound like me. See you in a few hours. Remember, sleep and food."

Cas closes his eyes as hears his front door click shut. For the first time in his life he feels cared for.

Dean pays the taxi driver then pushes through his apartment building door. Once inside his space, he never makes it past the door. His knees buckle and he slides to the floor. He refuses to cry, lord knows he's done enough of that the last few days.  He covers his face with his hands, thinking on the fact he just handed his complete heart to Castiel on a platter. Now, he wonders, how long will it will be before the truth comes out and his heart is shattered to pieces?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I need some after care. This chapter just did not want to end.


	6. Chapter 6

“So, what was so important last night?”

“I had a friend that drank a little too much and I wanted to make sure he made it home safely.”

“A friend, huh?”

“Yes, Benny, a _friend_. Why are you on my case? I sent Charlie a text to let her know there was nothing new to report. First thing this morning I called her, as I told her I would.”

Benny is silent for a moment. “Dean, did I ever tell you about Andrea?”

“No, but I get the feeling you're about to now.” Dean is pacing his living room, as he typically does when he's on the phone discussing work related issues, nerf ball clutched in his hands.

“Always so mouthy, Brother. I was starting into my second year of a case. As I was working my way up the ranks, I befriended a woman.”

The emphasis he places on _friend_ in the word ‘befriended’ does not go unnoticed by Dean.

“Long story short, my friend turned out to be the daughter of Sorento Kormos, the very head of the food chain I'd been working to dismantle.”

Dean recognizes the name of the mafia boss, the fact that Benny was a part of the case is new information to him.

“I broke the number one rule of undercover work, I became personally involved.”

“Benny, I-"

“Just hear me out now, Dean,” he tells Dean gently.

“Andrea and I fell in love. I had a plan, the young fool that I was. I was gonna take down her father, quit the force and together we'd build a new life, under new names. We never got that chance. The local DEA raided one of the warehouses we were working in. Andrea and Captain Turner had caught wind of it too late and consequently all parties converged at the same time.”

Dean drops down into his recliner, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach, anticipating his friend's next words.

“Gunfire rang out and my Andrea was caught in the crossfire. She'd come to the warehouse to warn me. I never learned how she knew about the raid but it didn’t matter. She was gone.”

“Benny, I’m sorry, I never knew.”

“I know you didn't, I don't like to talk about it. Even after all this time, it's still a painful part of my life to remember." After a moment of silence he continues. "I guess I’m just asking you to be cautious and learn from my mistakes.”

“I appreciate you looking out for me and I'm doing the best I can."

Hearing Benny’s story only makes Dean feel worse that he did when he first came home that morning. He's in too deep and if he's being completely honest with himself, he has no desire to dig himself out. He can only pray he and Cas fair better than Benny and Andrea.

As he hits the end button on his phone, it lights up once again. Sam's smiling face fills his screen with an incoming call.

"Hey, Sam." Dean is overjoyed to hear his brother's voice but he finds himself unable to muster any enthusiasm. He's emotionally wrung out.

"Hey Dean, how's it going?"

"Oh same old, same old. You?"

"Everything okay? You sound a little rougher than usual."

"I'm just tired." It isn't a complete lie. "I've been working mostly double shifts and it's starting to catch up to me I'm afraid."

"That brings me to why I"m calling. When's your next day off?"

"Tomorrow."

"Good, are you up for a visit? We could meet at the aquarium, staying clear of your current living quarters and place of work. Although, Eileen and I are dying to meet this Cas you're always talking about."

Just the sound of his name makes Dean grin and he feels his spirits lift a little. "I want you to meet him as well. I think you'd both like him very much. I just can't mix my lives up just yet. The water is murky enough when it comes to Cas."

"After your case wraps we'll all get together."

"I just hope he's still around at that point. Anyway, the aquarium sounds great. I close tonight so is it okay if we don't meet until 11? We can catch lunch there."

"That'd be great. We'll see you tomorrow. Try to take it easy."

@@@@@

“Cas, I was thinking that you and I need to go out on a real date.” Dean tells Cas as he passes him at the bar carrying a tub of dirty dishes. He drops them in the kitchen and returns to wipe down the tables.

They're in the midst of preparing for the dinner hour. Their greeting upon seeing each other at the start of their shift had an almost shy quality to it. Both finding it difficult to act like everything is normal and they weren't really fighting the urge to kiss each other silly.

“I'd very much like that but when will our schedules allow it? You have tomorrow off but I close and we flip the next day.”

“Right, I’m on kitchen duty but only until 6.”

“I wasn’t aware of that. Did you have something specific in mind?” Cas asks.

“Oh you know, dinner followed by a movie. Typical first date stuff and then…” He leaves his sentence to hang as he finishes up the last table.

“And then?” Cas asks.

Dean walks up to Cas, sets down the salt and pepper shakers that need filling and leans in close. They're the only two in the building leaving no need for secrecy; he just likes being close to Cas. His eyes freely roam over his face. Dean wonders if he'll ever tire of looking at his face. “We go on a typical first date. Dinner somewhere nice. During dinner, I pretend that I don’t already know how right before you reach orgasm you trap the tip of your tongue between your teeth as your breath comes out in short pants.” Dean reaches up and bites at Cas’s bottom lip before pulling away, picking up the shakers in one swoop and walks back to the kitchen. He loads the dishwasher, starts the cycle then returns to his position in front of Cas.

Either Cas's very good at hiding his arousal or he's more irritated than turned on because his face is devoid of all emotion, his eyes trained on the knife in his hand as he slices fruit for the garnish tray.

"After dinner, we can catch a movie and make out in the dark like teenagers or we could go back to your place and…”

“And what Dean?” He fills one slot with sliced lemons, another with limes.

“Well that's up to you. We could do what we did this morning, I rather enjoyed myself. We have the entire night and into the next afternoon.”

“What if,” Cas clears his throat and lifts his chin just a fraction. With only his eyes, he looks off to side where Dean is standing. “What if we did more?”

“I would be open to that. What did you have in mind?”

“I seem to recall you mentioning a few things yesterday, we should do that.” He refills the olive, cocktail onion and maraschino cherry slots before slamming the lid shut and popping the tray into the mini fridge.

Dean slowly circles around Cas, steps up close behind him and presses himself up against his ass. The hands of both men remain dangling at their sides. The idea that someone could walk into the bar at any time and interrupt this little dance sends a thrill through Dean.

He drops his voice and brings his mouth to the base of Cas’s neck just above his collar, right below his hair line. His warm breath ghosts over his skin as Dean speaks. “I would love nothing more than to feel that thick cock of yours fill me up, Castiel.” Dean’s mouth runs dry as he watches little pebbles of goose bumps rise to the surface of Cas’s skin, no doubt the result of hearing Dean use his full name.

Dean’s dick twitches urgently as Cas lets out the smallest of whimpers. He lays a kiss on a faint group of freckles. “Tell me, Castiel, would you like to open me up?" He moves past the freckles and lays an open mouth, wet kiss just under his right ear. “Or maybe you want to watch me do it myself? I’ve never been one to mind an audience.”

Cas leans back against Dean’s cock but he doesn't utter a sound.

Dean brings his hands up and grabs Cas by the thighs and pulls him in closer. “I’m going to go back into the cooler and finish up inventory. Holler if you need me.” He pats Cas’s thighs then steps away, walking casually towards the back hallway. He almost feels bad for teasing Cas but it's just so much fun.

Dean finishes up inventory and sets the report onto Ketch’s desk for Cas to place the order the next day. He peeks his head around the corner to make sure the bar is clear of customers. He takes a few steps back into the hall and yells towards the front. “Hey Cas, I think we may have a problem back here, could ya give me a hand for a minute?” He ducks into the breakroom, stepping out just as he hears the other man’s footsteps approach. He grabs Cas’s arm and pulls him into the room, pushing him up against the wall.

“Dean, what are you-,” finishing his sentence becomes impossible with Dean’s tongue swirling in his mouth. Cas lets out a low moan as his tongue reciprocates the motions.

Dean pulls back. “You didn’t think I'd leave you hanging like that did ya?” He moves down Cas’s body, hitting his knees and pulling at his zipper all in one move.

“Dean we're in the middle of a shift.”

“Then you better listen for the door chime and let me get to work.” There is a loud thump as Cas’s head hits the wall followed by a groan as Dean pulls Cas’s pants and boxers down to his thighs. He wastes no time, after all a customer could walk in at any minute.

Dean wraps his hand at the base of Cas’s cock while his mouth swallows his leaking head down. His tongue curls while his head bobs up and down. He pulls off briefly. “Oh you taste so fucking good,” h mutters before Cas grips Dean’s hair and directs him back on. Dean hungrily complies, not holding back his own moans of satisfaction.

Cas begins to move his hips, fucking into Dean’s mouth. Dean reaches his left hand up and grasps the globe Cas’s cheek, pulling him deeper into his mouth.

“Deean, fuuck, do that again,” he gasps as Dean’s finger rubs around his puckered hole.

“Mmmm” Dean replies as he circles without breaching the hole. His right hand leaves Cas’s shaft to fondle his sac while his lips and tongue continue to suck, kiss and lick. The sounds coming from Cas is making Dean wish he would have unzipped his own pants.

“Dean, Dean, oh Dean I’m so close, I just need, ugh!”

Dean strokes what he isn’t able to cover with his mouth, timing his rhythm with his mouth while he continues to rub at his hole. The grip on Dean’s hair tightens, Cas’s hips freeze and on a sharp gasp, Cas shoots his release into the back of Dean’s throat. He swallows it down, lapping at his head with his tongue until he's spent.

Cas slumps against the wall, knees trembling. Dean tucks Cas’s soft dick back into his boxers, zips up his jeans and stands.

Cas opens his eyes as his breathing slows. He finds it, once again, impossible to speak as Dean kisses him, the taste of his own semen lingering on Dean’s tongue.

Cas looks at Dean through slotted lids. “Well, I would say that was…quite acceptable.”

Dean can’t help but laugh. “You're such a smart ass, you ass. I just gave you some of my best work and you find it _acceptable_?”

“What about you, Dean?” He lays his wide palm flat against the front of Dean’s tight jeans.

“I’m good, we probably shouldn’t risk taking any more time. I just need a minute. I’ll meet you out there.” He steps away, allowing Cas to leave the breakroom with a backwards glance.

The truth is Dean needs more than a minute. The slightest movement is a painful reminder how hard he is. All he can think about are the noises he was able to pull from Cas, especially when he said Dean’s name. He finds the thought rather revolting but locking himself in the bathroom may be his only option. It'd only take a few strokes. He bangs his forehead onto the wall. “Fuck.”

“Dean.”

“Jesus, Cas. How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to know I can’t let this continue.” He grabs the front of Dean’s shirt and pushes him down onto the worn couch. He retrieves a hand towel from the drawer next to the sink and tosses it onto Dean’s heaving chest.

He watches Cas as he drops down onto the floor between his knees.

“I’ve, uh never done this before but I'd like to try.”

“I don’t know if now is the best time for experimenting.”

“Dean.” The glare Cas gives him makes it crystal clear there's no room for discussion.

Cas unzips his jeans and Dean lifts his hips enough to allow him to pull his jeans and boxers down onto his thighs. He lets out a string of profanities as the cool air hits his rock hard cock.

“You're very beautiful, Dean. Has anyone ever told you that? I’m starting to understand why you seemed to enjoy yourself as much as I did just now.”

“Cas, Baby, I love that you want to admire me and all that but I’ve never in my life come untouched but I may now if you don’t _do_ something. _Please!"_  If his tone isn’t enough to convey his desperation the way his hips won't stop moving should be a clear indicator.

Cas looks up at Dean, fear starting to cloud his face. Dean takes a deep, steadying breath. “Just do what you think you'd like. Be m-mindful of your teeth.” He closes his eyes and slams his head back onto the couch. “And don’t worry about taking too much, uh down. This time, just stay near the h-head.” His hand has now traveled to his stomach, pushing up his shirt. More as a distraction he lays the towel onto his stomach only to bunch it up tightly in his fist as Cas wraps his fingers around Dean’s length.

He drops the towel and grabs the arm of the couch with one hand and the cushion on the other. He looks down just in time to see Cas’s tongue tentatively lick at the glistening drop of precome. Without warning, Dean watches those soft lips wrap around his head, enveloping him in Cas’s warm, eager mouth. “Oooh, oh, that’s good. R-Real good. Mmm.” His knuckles grow white as he grips the couch tight, fighting the urge to fuck deep into Cas’s throat.

Cas pulls Dean’s hand from the arm of the couch and guides it to his hair. Dean gratefully threads his fingers through his sweaty locks and digs his blunt fingernails into his scalp. Cas moans in pleasure as he hollows his cheeks and sucks hard at Dean’s head.

“Cas, ugh, Cas you may want to get out of firing range because I, shit. How did you get so freaking g- ah!”

Dean throws his head back again as Cas removes his mouth and concentrates on jacking his hand. His fingers kneed at Dean’s sac then slide back further where he applies pressure to the sensitive spot right behind the sac.

“Oh Cas, please I-”

“Tell me, Dean.”

“I want. I want to hear you say my n-name.” He looks down at Cas, hoping he doesn’t sound too needy.

Castiel drops his chin, brings his eyes up to meet Dean’s. “Dean,” He feels the heat growing low in his abdomen at the commanding growl, “come for me Dean.”

The rubber band snaps as Dean’s body grows tense, hot ropes of come spurt out onto the waiting towel. He can't help the keening sound that escapes him as Castiel continues to move his hand. The physical aspect is enough to make Dean’s vision white out but the words Castiel is speaking makes Dean’s head spin. “You're absolutely stunning, so beautiful, I don’t deserve you Dean.”

Dean relaxes into the couch has his hand drops listlessly from Cas’s hair onto his thigh. His eyes remain closed as Cas wipes down his stomach. He moves just enough for Cas to pull his clothes back up and tuck him back into his jeans.

He pries his eyes open and stares Cas down, still kneeling between his thighs. He reaches down and drags Cas up into a kiss. When he reluctantly pulls away for air, he grins and says. “Yes, definitely acceptable.”

With a shake of his head, Cas stands, tosses the towel into the garbage can and walks out the door.

“You find me adorable and you know it,” he calls to Cas’s retreating back.

@@@@@

Knees still feeling like rubber, Dean laughs as he joins Cas in the front. He drops a divided tray of utensils and a pile of napkins onto a table.

“What's so funny?”

“I know it isn’t good for business but I’m really happy this place is so slow during the week,” he laughs again as he drops down onto a chair.

“It's been very beneficial for us, hasn’t it?” Castiel joins Dean at the table.

They each grab a fork, knife and spoon and wrap them in a napkin.

“It's much busier in the summer months. I’m afraid our “down time” will be very minimal. Not to mention there'll be more staff to deal with. Mick hires on seasonal wait staff.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” Secretly Dean prays he'll be gone before summer arrives.

Dean chuckles. “I like when you go down. Ya know, I don’t know if I believe that was your first time.”

Cas’s cheeks flush pink. “I’ve always been good at learning by example.”

“Oh shit!” Dean freezes mid reach.

“What?” The alarm on Castiel’s face is apparent.

“Well, the point is moot now since we've already exchanged bodily fluids, but-”

“Dean, are you going to tell me I'll be in need of antibiotics?”

Dean lets out an embarrassed laugh and now he's the one flushing red. “No, I’m clean, I have paperwork to prove it," he adds as a joke.

“Oh.” Cas relaxes back into his chair. “I trust you. I am as well. I mean, it's been years since I was tested but I don’t think my palm passed anything onto me in the meantime.”

Dean visibly winces but remains silent.

“Go ahead, I know you're dying to ask me.”

“No, it’s your business, I shouldn’t pry.”

“Dean you just had my dick in your mouth and your finger practically in my ass. I’m pretty sure my history _is_ your business.”

“Never one to mince words, are ya Babe?”

Cas shrugs. “Why waste time, life's too short.” He pauses then adds, “But not nearly as short as my sexual past.”

“You'd mentioned you were with a woman once. How did that work out for ya?”

“Not very well, I’m afraid. I mean, it was okay. I climaxed and she seemed to have but I don’t really know.”

“Was it awkward?”

“You’ve met me, everything about me is awkward.”

“I disagree, but please continue."

“I had just turned 22. Hannah was a coworker of mine at the convenience store I worked at. She had an obvious crush on me. I say obvious because even I was aware of her feelings.”

Dean can’t let the opportunity go by to tease. “So in other words, she came right out and said, I like you.”

Cas’s handsome face splits into a smile and a laugh sounds at the back of his throat. “Yeah pretty much. Anyway, she invited me back to her house and we had intercourse.”

“Well no wonder it was awkward if you thought about it in proper terms. Did any of it feel, you know, good?” Always the one to be subtle, Dean makes a circle around his groin.

“Before meeting you I would've said it was a passable experience but now that I know what real pleasure is I’ll say I've had better experiences in the shower...alone.”

“Was it because it was a woman or were you not attracted to her?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever know the answer to that. Besides, you've set the bar impassable at this point. The funny thing was I never once got caught up in my head. Naomi, along with my own negative infliction, was silent, the entire time I was with her.” He stares at the wall behind Dean's, head tilted in thought.

“Cas, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“No, I should." He drops his gaze back down to Dean. "I want you to know everything about me. I’ve realized you can’t work through something if you pretend it isn’t there.”

“Wise words, my friend.”

Cas shrugs and throws another bundle onto the growing pile. “I have my moments. After my encounter with Hannah I was curious to see if it'd be different with a man. I went to a bar one evening, hoping someone would catch my eye. I don’t even remember his name. He was attractive, maybe a bit loud and crass for my liking but that didn’t stop me from following him into a dark corner. He radiated confidence and experience, two things I was severely lacking in.

At first, I was hopeful. Kissing him was good, it felt more natural to me than with Hannah. Physically I was reacting which encouraged the blonde man to move things along.”

Cas pauses. “Are you sure you want to hear this? There isn’t much to tell but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Dean slides the utensil tray to the side and sandwiches Cas’s palm between his hands then runs his fingers up and down over the back of Cas's knuckles. “I want to hear everything you're willing to share. I want to help in any way I can.”

“Just, tell me if it gets to be too much.”

Dean squeezes Cas’s hand and nods for him to continue.

“The moment he pulled down my zipper is when my head started to fill with ugly words. Her voice was quiet at first but by the time he had reached behind me and was cupping my bare ass I could no longer hear my own breath. It was awful. On one hand, I was churning with desire and on the other, I was hating myself. It felt so good and yet so very wrong at the same time.

 _"This is where I knew you'd always end up_. I heard her spit at me. _Some dank bar surrounded by other deviants. He doesn’t care about you, no one will ever care about you. No one cares about dirty, gross boys._ It was too overwhelming. I abruptly stood up and ran for the door.

It was months before I was able to gather enough courage to try again. Unfortunately, I had the same result. This time it was words to the effect of _Go ahead, let him grab that dirty weapon of yours then tomorrow you can go to your dead-end job. Just another day in your useless life. A pathetic life where no one knows you even exist.”_

“Jesus, Cas! She said those things to you? You were just a little kid.”

“What I was hearing was a mix of words from my past and my own self-loathing. She never missed a chance to tell me how useless I was around the house, what a burden I was to her and how I should be more grateful to her for taking me in.”

“How did you manage?”

“I made myself as scarce as possible. I'd get up before she did in the morning, after school I'd waste as much time at the library then go home. She rarely fed me dinner so it wasn’t like I needed to be home for that. Once I did get home I'd hide away in my room til the next day.” His free hand begins to spin a utensil bundle on the table. The movement makes Dean think of a spin the bottle party.

“I told you how she caught me kissing another boy when I was 13. After that, if you can imagine, it only got worse. Now I was not only useless but also dirty and she felt "uncomfortable" being around me. I was a pervert who would grow up to catch diseases and die an awful death, that was if I didn’t land in prison for defiling children. The logical part of my brain knew what she was saying was wrong but if you're told something enough times it starts to morph into the truth.”

“Mother Fuck, Cas! You were just a kid and instead of nurturing you like a parent is supposed to do she fucked with your head! I wish I could track her down now and beat her into the ground. No better yet, I want her to know what a fucking awesome person you are in spite of the vile, inhumane way she treated you.”

Cas’s eyes are glistening as he listens to Dean defend him. “Unfortunately that's not possible, she died right before I turned 18.”

“That’s a shame. Not that the bitch is dead but it’s a shame I can’t get at her.”

“No use, Dean. The past is in the past, now I need to focus on improving my future. If it's any indication of how well my present life is, I think it'll make up for my shitty past.”

Dean shoves down the guilt he feels bubbling to the surface. He rises from his seat in order to lean over the table to lay a chaste kiss on Cas’s lips. He sits back down and raises the hand he's holding to his lips, kissing each knuckle. His eyes remain trained on his hand as he speaks. “I feel the same way, Cas. I wish you knew how grateful I am you came into my life. I don’t know what our future holds but I know I want nothing more than to spend it with you.” He looks up at Cas now, brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, I hope I’m not scareing you. I know we haven’t been together very long but I just, I’ve never felt so…much.” He drops his head, unable to look Cas in the eye.

He's thinking about how much he hates a woman he's never met and he's thinking about the inevitable moment Cas will learn the truth Dean's been hiding from him. He knows in his heart he'll lose him and he can’t bear the thought.

“Dean! Dean!” He's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn’t realize Cas has been calling his name.

“Look at me, Dean.”

Dean’s head snaps up. Cas pulls his hand out of Dean’s grip and cups his hands along Dean’s strong jawline. The pads of his thumbs rubs along his cheek bones. “Dean, you've changed my life in a way I could never thank you for. I can't even begin to name everything you've done for me that no one's ever even considered.” He tilts Dean’s head up, forcing him to look into Cas’s eyes. “No one, Dean," he repeats. "The first impression I gave you wasn't very nice and yet you still wanted to get to know me. You didn’t turn away when I completely freaked out in the cooler, instead you calmed me down.”

“I did?” Dean remembers the way Cas looked as he hurried out of the cooler that day. He certainly didn’t appear calm.

“Jesus, Dean if you hadn’t been there, I’m not exaggerating when I say you would've found me curled up in a ball on the floor. One minute I was stuck in that fucking closet, begging to get out and the next thing I know I feel a warm, kind hand on my back. Then I hear your voice. You grounded me, Dean, like nothing I've ever encountered. I’m finding the more time I spend with you, the less I hear in my head. I don’t know if that's because your voice is louder or if I’m allowing myself to be the real me and not the person she always told me I was.”

“I think you are selling yourself short again, Cas.” Dean’s voice is husky and heavy with emotion. He turns his face in order to kiss Cas’s hand again.

“Potato, patato Dean.”

Dean bends at the waist, laughing loudly. “Look at my Cas, making a lame joke.”

“You love that about me, admit it.”

Dean’s head comes up slowly, the silence between them is comfortable. Yes, Dean thinks to himself, I can admit that and a whole lot more. He opens his mouth and the door chimes. A group of seven women come strolling through the door, laughing and all talking at once.

“Damn customers,” Dean mutters. He smiles at Cas while he gathers the prepped utensils. "I’m going to drop these in the kitchen and then I’ll tend to their table. I know it isn’t your favorite thing to do.”

“Always looking out for me. Thank you, Dean.”

“Good Evening, Ladies. Welcome to _Capone’s_ _Hideaway_. I’m Dean and I'll be at your beck and call this evening.” He hands each woman a menu with a wink or a smirk.

All except one of the women giggles at Dean’s intro.

“A friend of ours told us the guys that work here fell right out of a GQ magazine, I’m happy to say she wasn’t exaggerating.” The brunette speaking is looking directly in Cas’s direction. Dean knows exactly what she's thinking when she literally licks her lips.

Dean looks over his shoulder to glance at Cas, he looks utterly mortified and it makes Dean feel a little giddy.

Turning back to the women, he pulls out his order pad. “What can I start you all off with? My friend over there makes a mean cosmo.”

Most of them take Dean up on his suggestion and order a Cosmopolitoin. The last customer is a red head seated directly to Dean’s right, up until now she's remained silent, only occasionally turning her round green eyes up at Dean. “And what do you have a taste for tonight, Red?” He asks her with his best charming smile.

In place of an answer she thrusts a piece of paper up at Dean. He accepts it and reads the words “Brandy Old Fashion, please.” Ah, now her silence makes sense.

Despite his nerves, Dean tucks his empty order pad into the waistband of his jeans, turns his body so he's facing the woman and signs, “Sweet or sour?”

The look of pure surprise that breaks across her face is enough to dash away Dean’s reserve. Aside from practicing with Sam, Eileen is the only person he's ever conversed with using ASL.

“You sign?” She asks.

“Yes, but not very well. Please go slow.”

“You seem to be doing very well. I read lips but I couldn’t see your face.”

“My apologies,” he tells her.

She waves a hand at him in a no big deal gesture before answering Dean’s original question. “Sweet. Extra orange slices, please.”

“I'lll be right back with those. In the meantime, take a look at the menus.”

“Five Cosmos, one brandy Old Fashion sweet, extra oranges and one Corona. I’ll get the beer and the Old Fashion.”

Castiel fills the shaker with ice and measures out the vodka, triple sec and cranberry juice. “Was that sign language I saw you using? I didn’t know you could do that.” He shakes the metal cup, sets it down on the counter and lines up five cocktail glasses in front of him.

“I’m okay at it, my brother Sam's really good. My sister in law is deaf.”

“Oh. I must say I love discovering something new about you every day, Dean.”

As Dean grabs a tray and loads up the mixed drinks, the door chimes again and Mick walks in, holding hands with a woman.

“Good evening, gentlemen!” Mick walks over and shakes hands with Cas and Dean. “Dean, I'd like you to meet my wife, Erica. Erica,” he says turning to the woman with long, curly red hair and freckles splashed across her cute nose, "this is Dean and you already know Castiel.”

Dean offers her his outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you Erica.” She shakes his hand briefly with a warm smile.

“You as well, Dean.”

“If you’ll excuse me I have a Ladies Night Out to attend to.”

He carries the tray over and delivers the drinks. Setting the tray down he grabs his pad and pen out of his waist band. Now he makes a point to stand across from the red head. Speaking and signing he asks, “What can I get for you, Ladies?”

His bowed legs carry him into the kitchen. Mick is there, warming up the grill.

“How'd you manage to snag such a looker?”

“I ask myself that every day, man. Every day.”

Dean hands over the ticket before heading back to the bar. There're only three customers perched on stools.

Cas joins Dean at the cash register as he starts a tab for his table. “I have to admit, I’m a little turned on watching you converse over there.” He keeps his voice low so only Dean's able to hear him. “I have always found your hands to be…talented but this just adds to my admiration of them.”

“Maybe, if you're good, I'll talk dirty to you…with my hands.” Dean cocks an eyebrow at Cas before heading over to check on the drink status.

“Say something to me now, Dean," he says upon his return.

“Why Cas, I like this side of you.” He looks around the room, no one's paying attention to the two of them.

Dean’s facial features become very animated as he speaks to Castiel.

“Ok, now tell me what you said.”

“What’s the fun in that?” His eyes travel up, looking past Cas. His face turns beet red but he smiles widely. “Well, one person knows what I just said.”

Castiel turns around just in time to catch the red head at the table giving Dean two thumbs up, a grin on her face matching Dean’s.

“Dean, I’m not above pouting at this point of the evening.”

“I wish I could kiss you right now, you’re incredibly sexy when you're agitated.”

“Dean.”

Dean laughs softly, lays a hand on Cas’s hip and leans in close to his ear. “I said _My boyfriend has a thick dick that I can’t wait to ride All. Night. Long_.”

Now Castiel is the one blushing. And hard. And he really wants to kiss Dean. His voice is a little higher than it typically is when he sputters out, “I’m going to take a 15. Cover the bar for me.”

Castiel’s public persona is normally so stoic so Dean takes great pleasure in being able to watch that wall crumble.

His joy is evident to each of the women as he passes out their bills.

“What a shame.”

“What’s that, Red?” Dean asks, eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.

“The two of you would make stunning babies. It’s a shame it doesn’t work that way.”

The comment gives Dean pause. His main focus has always been working the case, watching for any important detail. Next in line has been Castiel and lavishing in his time with him, despite how utterly selfish it is on Dean’s part. He's been so distracted by the images of his face, the imminent betrayal plastered over it followed by his back as he leaves Dean forever. He hasn’t allowed himself to see beyond the pain. What if there is a slight possibility of a happy life with him?

“There are always options in life,” he tells Red with a shy smile because now he's picturing the two of them in a small house outside of the city, toys scattered about in the backyard.

“K-a-r-l-a,” she spells with her fingers.

“Nice to meet you, Karla. Have a good evening.”

As they file out the front door, several of the women pause at the bar to say goodnight to Castiel and compliment him on his cocktail slinging abilities.

“Now what's so funny?” Cas’s irritated voice drifts over Dean’s back as he clears the table.

He knows Cas isn’t really irritated so he continues to chuckle as he walks back to the bar. He drops a $20 bill in front of his boyfriend and holds up a napkin, allowing Cas to read the words written in blue, _For the thick man behind the bar. If Mr. James Dean ever tires of you…_  
Her words are followed by the name Cindy, a phone number and a lipstick kiss.

Cas snorts and Dean crumples up the napkin into a tight ball.  
“Never gonna bloody happen, lady,” he says as he lets it sail through the air in an arc into the garbage can.

The remainder of the evening is uneventful. It's a Tuesday so there aren’t many more customers that stroll in.  Mick cleans up the kitchen then moves to the back office as Dean and Cas sweep and mop the front.

Stretches of a comfortable silence is broken by the swish of the mop, the bump of the wood as Dean upends the chairs onto the tabletops and the occasional contented sigh as one of them watches the other.

Dean gives an undignified “Yip,” when Cas grabs his ass as he passes by, mop in hand.

The opportunity to return the favor presents itself several minutes later as Castiel bends down to squeeze out the mop. Unlike Dean, he's prepared and he whips around, locking Dean in a tight embrace. He presses their bodies together and licks his tongue across Dean’s lips. The kiss is brief, just long enough to give Cas a taste of Dean’s tongue as he pushes past his pretty pink lips. He pulls away, leaving Dean’s head spinning.

Dean watches Cas as he continues with his chore of mopping, pretending he didn’t just send lightning bolts of electricity zinging through Dean’s veins. He shakes his head and mutters, “Ass,” under his breath.

“And it’s all yours,” Castiel calls back as he disappears around the corner, pushing the mop bucket ahead of him.

Just before midnight, Mick joins Dean and Cas at their table. Dean had been telling Cas about his Baby. To Castiel the snippets of Dean’s soothing words back in the cooler finally make sense.

“An Impala? What year?” Mick asks.

“67.”

Mick nods his head in approval. “Nice.”

“I was telling Cas how I need to get back to Kansas soon and pull her out of storage. She deserves to see the light of day at least for a little while.”

“Why didn’t you bring her with you when you moved?” Cas asks.

“I knew I wouldn’t be driving much and I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave her in a parking garage, unprotected." He gives a violent shiver at the thought.

“Where is she now?”

“A family friend has her in a garage.” The truth is, Baby's being held in Sam and Eileen’s garage until his case is over. “I brought a beater of a car with me instead.” He thinks of the car Benny and Charlie brought him, silently calling it a POS.

The door chimes and in walks Erica.

“Ah, my chariot awaits, Gentlemen.” He kisses his wife’s cheek as she says hello to Cas and Dean. He slings his arm over her shoulders. “I think its safe for you all to close up and call it a night.” He pauses, studying them both. “Or stay and enjoy the quiet. Up to you. Good night.” The married couple wave before leaving.

“What do you think that meant?”

Dean waves his hand in the air. “I don’t know, I’m choosing not to read into it. Instead I'm taking his suggestion.” He walks to the front and turns off all the lights except the one above Cas’s head. He locks the door, pulls the chain on the Open neon sign then walks back to the silent juke box. After making his selection he strolls back to Cas.

Cas smiles as the first few notes come tumbling out of the speakers. “Am I getting a rewind here?”

Dean extends his hand, palm out to Castiel. This time Cas doesn't hesitate to accept, he happily curls his body inside Dean’s strong arms. “So what're your plans for your day off, Mr. Campbell?”

The innocent question turns Dean’s stomach into a tight knot. He's grateful they are pressed cheek to cheek so Cas doesn’t see the pained look that briefly pinches his face. He leads them is small circles around the room. “Hmmm, I actually hadn’t thought about it.” Not wanting to lie any more than he needs to he changes the subject. “You know tomorrow'll be the first day since I moved here that I haven’t seen you. I may need to stop in for lunch.” He pulls his head back and kisses Cas’s mouth. “Or dinner.” Now he nips at his jaw. “Or maybe a midnight cocktail.” He returns to Cas’s mouth, pushing his tongue in hungrily. Their feet cease all movement as their tongues continue to dance, hands lazily roaming over tense muscles. The music softly surrounding them, Steven Tyler singing the truth they each hold.

_Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we’re together. I just want to stay with you in this moment forever. Forever and ever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to anyone who caught the "Erica" reference:-)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies, this chapter is a little shorter than my average one. The next one is almost finished and I hope it will be worth the wait ;-).

“Uncle Dean!” The boy with the shaggy brown hair like his dad and big brown eyes like his mom comes barreling at Dean, jumping up into his uncle’s waiting arms.

Dean wraps his arms around Mal, “Hey buddy!” He laughs as his nephew climbs back down, stepping aside so his parents can greet Dean.

Dean pulls Sam down into a tight embrace, his arms circling his shoulders. He may be the size of a moose but he's still Dean’s little brother. “It’s so good to see you, Man.”

“You too, Dean.” He pats Dean’s back, allowing Dean a moment.

“Hey,” Eileen’s impatient voice interrupts. “I want in on this action!”

Dean reluctantly pulls away from his brother, turning towards Eileen. He smiles through the tears that fill his eyes as Eileen folds herself against Dean’s chest. He holds her tight, nuzzling his nose into her soft brown hair. She pulls them apart enough to reach her hands up to cup Dean’s face. “Missed you so much,” she says. 

Dean nods his head, afraid to speak. He refuses to cry. Instead he signs. “Me too. So much.”

She pulls her hands off his face. “You're doing a good thing." Eileen seems to understand the reason begind Dean's sudden onslaught of emotions. It's not just the fact he misses his family. It's the fact he's unable to be himself and he's worried how the truth will effect Castiel. "You'll be ok. In the end, you'll both be ok.” She signs. “I can feel it.” She pats her chest over her heart.

“From your hands to Gods ears,” Dean tells her out loud.

“Hate to break into your moment here,” Sam signs and speaks, “but a certain someone over there's anxiously waiting to see his favorite turtle.”

Dean takes Eileen’s hand in his and together they follow Sam to the ticket counter while Malachi dances circles around them.

The first stop the small family makes is at the 90,000 gallon circular tank in the center of the rotunda. The speakers overhead offer up commentary about the aquarium, types of fish in the tank and finally, the star of the tank. “Do you want me to?” Sam starts as he points towards the ceiling.

“No,” Eileen cuts him off. “Know it by heart.” She replies.

It warms Dean’s heart to watch their easy short hand. Aimlessly switching between signing, speaking and a combination of both.

He turns his attention to his nephew. The boy who hardly ever stops moving is standing as still as a statue, eyes as big as saucers as a Green Sea turtle slowly swims into Mal’s sights. Nickle the sea turtle was rescued in 1998 when a boat propeller paralyzed her back fins. A nickel was discovered lodged in her throat during her initial examination, hence her name. She's often a favorite among guests, including one, 7 year old Winchester.

The three adults have each made numerous trips here with Malachi for the sole purpose of watching Nickel. They know from experience he'd spend the entire day circling the tank just to keep near her.

“Mal, let’s look at a few more exhibits before lunch. We'll leave time at the end of our day to sit here a little while longer.”

Malachi’s face falls as he watches his mother but being the sweet boy he is, he nods his head in agreement, gives Nickel one more glance then follows his parents and uncle onto the next tank.

They meander through each exhibit on the first floor. Dean has always felt a calm settle over him whenever he's visited the aquarium. Something about the way the lights are kept low and the creatures all glide through the water like they don’t have a care in the world. No threat of being eaten and their food is provided for them.

The voices of those around him fade away as he watches a lone sea horse bobbing along a clump of coral. Dean wonders if he's alone or if he's just out for a casual swim, looking for something to snack on. Several minutes have passed when out of nowhere the head of another sea horse emerges from a hole in the reef. The new one glides over and joins the first. He knows it’s all in his imagination but Dean swears they both look happier now that they're in each other’s space.

A thought occurs to him as he watches these two partners for life. He still feels the usual calm he's experienced in the past but now he knows he's felt calmer and more at ease with himself. Nothing will ever compare to what he feels when he's threading his fingers through Castiel’s hair, gently scratching at his scalp.

“Either you have a kink for sea horses or you're thinking about a certain co-worker.”

Dean jumps several inches. “Jesus, Sam, warn a guy will ya!?! You're lucky I’m not carrying my piece.”

Eileen is grinning at Dean. “He tried but you were lost for several minutes there. You wear the look of love well.”

“I’m going to pretend I misread that last statement. Come on, let’s get lunch.”

There are several choices for lunch but Malachi always chooses the Bubble Net Food Court. Dean and Eileen choose pizza, Mal opts for a hot dog with fries and Sam gets, no surprise to anyone, a salad. As they tuck into their food, Dean asks Sam how work's been going.

“The kids are restless because the holidays are starting to creep up but all in all, pretty good.”

“What's the current selection?” Sam is a high school English teacher.

“Ragtime,” he signs with his left hand while his right hand shovels in a forkful of lettuce.

“A classic, and in my opinion, not taught enough,” Dean comments with a nod.

“One of my favorites,” Eileen agrees.

“And what about you, Little Man. How’s the costume coming along?”

“So cool! Mom made me the best Power Ranger suite!”

“I'm not surprised in the least.” He directs his next question at his sister. “Did you go old school or the new movie?”

“Old school, for sure.”

“And you know the best part, Uncle Dean?” Dean can’t help but grin watching his little hands so expertly sign while the pitch of his voice jumps up and down with excitement.

“Um, candy?”

“No! Mom made one for each of us!”

“No way! Now that's the best part! What color has everyone chosen?”

“Mom's Blue, Dad's yellow and I’m black.”

“So, if memory serves me right, that leaves pink, white and red.”

“You know Dean, Halloween is this coming Saturday. There's still time for me to put one together for you if you want to join us. Castiel too.” She adds after a beat. Her eyebrows raised high.

“Heck ya, count me in! I have the whole weekend off but unfortunately Cas doesn't. Thank you for thinking of including him though.”

“What color do you want?” Malachi asks.

Without hesitation Dean says, “Pink.”

Mal scrunches up his nose. “The girl wore pink.”

“Sooo,” Dean stretches out the word, making his voice sound nasally like a snotty little kid. “A guy wore blue but its ok for your Mom to wear it? What’s the logic in that? Huh? Huh?” He punctuates each word with a finger to his nephew’s ribcage. “Pink is the color of perfection, Little Man.”

“Ok, I give. You'll look good in pink, Uncle Dean.” He dissolves in a fit of giggles so Dean steals a few of his fries.

Dean has staked out a bench while Eileen and Sam stand with Mal at Nickel’s tank a few feet away. While he waits for his brother and sister in law to join him he checks his “other” phone for messages. He's not disappointed when he sees one from a certain hot bartender. He sent it just over an hour ago.

 **Castiel: Hope you're enjoying your day off. As you can see we're swamped**!

Under the text is a picture of Cas standing behind the bar. There's one guy in the whole place looking mighty woe be gone.

Snickering to himself, wondering how he managed to fall for someone who's _almost_ a bigger smart ass than himself, he sends off a quick response.

**Dean: Looks like we need to practice your selfie technique, I could only see half your handsome face.**

**Dean: Miss you**

It doesn’t take long for a response back.

**Castiel: Miss you more.**

“Honey, he’s making that face again. I’m starting to get a little weirded out by it.”

“Yeah, he looks happy.” Eileen teases and slugs Dean lightly on the arm as her and Sam flank him on the bench.

“Oh knock it off you two. I’ve had to put up with the two of you being all disgusting and gushy for over 10 years!”

“OK, spill it.” Eileen tells him.

“What do you want to know?”

It was like a tidal wave of questions. Each of them asking one after another.

“Whoa, whoa. One at a time, _please!"_  As he signs ‘please’ he doesn’t even bother with the circular motion on his chest he just slaps it audibly. They get his point.

In unison, they both rub closed fists over their chests. “Sorry.”

“Is it serious?”

“Way to start off easy, only you Sam.”

Eileen lays a hand over her husband’s. “Tell us about him.”

“Thanks for the softball," he tells her honestly. "Well, Castiel's unlike anyone I've ever met before. He's smart as hell, he has a dry sense of humor that I never tire of, he certainly doesn’t take any of my shit, he's had some shitty cards dealt to him in regards to his upbringing and yet he rose above it all which makes him so brave. He truly is my hero.

He has this wild head of hair that always needs a brush and yet I hope he never picks up that brush, he's uncomfortable around most people and yet he excels at his job and he serves the customers well, it's difficult to make him laugh unrestrained but when I am able to I feel like I won the lottery and it’s Christmas morning all rolled together. Not to mention he's the most beautiful man, no human, I have ever seen.”

“Well, I guess that answers Sam’s question,” Eileen says grinning.

“Dean, I really hate to be the one to bring this up but what if Castiel is involved w-”

“No Sam!” Dean winces at how loud he shouted and lowers his voice. “No, Sam, there's no way Cas is anything but honest and good.”

“Dean.” Sam tightens his jaw and holds Dean's gaze. “I am ecstatic to see you so happy. You deserve to be happy more than anyone I know.”

“Then why do you feel the need to rain on my parade?”

“Because, Dean, you're my brother and I have to look out for you. Please, humor me for a moment. Just think with your Officer brain and not with your heart.” He pleads in a gentle voice.

“Sam I…ok.” He sits for a moment watching his nephew in front of the giant tank. He thinks about his first few encounters with Castiel, especially that day at the warehouse. “No.” He tells them both firmly. “No doubts whatsoever.”

Eileen and Sam exchange a quiet look then turn back to Dean. “Good, when can we meet him?” They both ask at the same time.

Sam continues. “How does it all work anyway? How much do you tell him of the truth and how much do you out and out lie?”

“It's a delicate balance. I try to lie as little as possible, I leave a lot to assumption and omission. It’s not even the end game I’m worried about, although that scares me a great deal, but it’s easier to keep it as close to the truth as possible. That way I won’t tangle myself up.”

“I guess I’ll bring up the next tough one.” Eileen starts, “Do you think,” she pauses searching for the best choice in words, “he’ll be ok after he learns the truth?”

Dean drops his head into his hands. Sam squeezes Dean’s shoulder. “Would you be?” He asks them both when he lifts his head again.

“I’ve never been in his shoes so I don’t know but I have a few thoughts,” Eileen answers.

“Please, share. From where I sit I've done a pretty shitty thing to him. Yes, I know it's part of the job but I should've kept my distance. He's let me in on a very private part of his life, it took a lot for him to do that and I can’t even return the favor of showing him all of myself. Not yet anyway.”

“Just from what you've told us about him it sounds like Castiel is a very honest, proud man. I can’t imagine someone like that would willingly work for someone as crooked as this Metaton thug. And by the way, what kind of name is that anyway?”

“His legal name is Marvin, the one time I was around him I had a constant case of the heebie jeebies. As for Cas, that's my single thread of hope I've been clinging to.”

“Dean, I know Eileen has said this before but it’s worth repeating. What you're doing is a good thing," Sam arches his eyebrows to excetuate his point. "It’s also very brave.”

“I hope you're both right. I honestly don’t know what I'll do if I lose him.”

He has very few minutes left with his family and he doesn’t want to spend it being sad. As if Castiel can sense how Dean's feeling he sends a message. Dean opens it and warmth floods his chest. What a smart ass!

**Castiel: So very lonely without you. Mick’s lips just aren’t as soft as yours.**

“Share with the class, Mr. Winchester…. Uh unless it's dirty then please don’t!”

“Uh oh, Eileen, he just used his teacher voice on me.”

He grins at them both and holds up his phone. “Want to see a picture?” In answer, they both crowd over Dean’s shoulder as he swipes through the few pictures he has. He shows them one he snapped of the two of them during their picnic, another while at work and one of Castiel alone in profile. It's one of Dean’s favorites, he's looking down at the cash register, one eyebrow raised in concentration.

“Oh My God!” Eileen doesn’t even sign, just blurts out her shock upon seeing Castiel. “Those eyes!” she adds, looking at Dean.

“Wait til you see them in person, the camera doesn't even do them justice.”

“Not too shabby, way out of your league for sure!”

“For once I agree with you, Sammy!”

Saying goodbye to his family was difficult but the pain was lessened a bit knowing he would see them again in a few days.

@@@@@

 “What in the devil are you doing here? You do know you aren’t on the schedule, right?”

Dean chuckles as he sits down onto a stool. “I got bored at home.”

Before he catches himself, his face breaks into a full, all teeth showing grin as Castiel walks around the corner. He quickly schools his face. “Uh that and I didn’t feel like cooking anything.”

Mick follows Dean’s gaze. “Yes, I’m sure my greasy cuisine is what brought you here.”

“What? Oh yeah, just surprise me. I know I'lll like anything you make.” Dean has no idea what Mick just mumbled under his breath, he hopes his reply is good enough.

It must be because he pushes off the bar, mutes the tv and tells Dean he'lll be back shortly. “You ok covering the front, Cas?”

Cas waves a hand at Mick, eyes trained on Dean. “Yeah, no problem.” On a thought he turns around, “Hey Mick, despite what Dean just said he wouldn't, in fact, like vegetables. Of any kind.”

Mick points at Dean before turning on his spoken word. “Noted.” He walks to the kitchen with a knowing smile and a small shake of his head.

The two lovers are alone for the time being. Cas props himself up on his forearms.

He's close enough for Dean to feel the heat radiating off his bare neck. Dean makes a mental note to snoop in Castiel’s shower the next time he's at his place. He needs to know what kind of shampoo or soap or whatever product the man uses because all it takes is one whiff and Dean's on his way to full salute. On second thought, maybe they should just shower together, because well it isn’t nice to snoop.

“What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t think I would see you until tomorrow night. You know, for our date?” Cas’s smile is soft while his eyes search Dean’s face.

“I know, believe me I know. I missed you and I didn’t think I could wait that long.”

“What’s with the pouty face?”

“My lips are in need of something.”

“Chapstick? I probably have one in my coat pocket.”

“Nope.” He makes a loud pop sound on the ‘p’.

“Hmmm, maybe…” He looks over his shoulder then kisses Dean.

“Yup, that was it. Much better.”

“How'd you get this scar, Dean?” Castiel runs the pad of his index finger over a faint line running horizontally across Dean’s chin. The mere touch of the man makes Dean shiver.

“On the job.” The answer comes automatically. “I was trying to diffuse a fight and the drunker of the two grabbed a beer bottle, smashed it on the bar and swiped at his buddy. I weaved but not far enough.”

“The dangers of bartending.”

“It could have been worse.” He lets the assumption ride because in truth he was wearing a uniform, not an apron.

“Hmm, I want to kiss it and make it better.”

“Long since healed, Babe.” He cocks his head a bit. “On second thought sometimes I do feel a bit of phantom pain…”

Cas leans over again and kisses Dean across the chin, letting his lips linger for several seconds. He pulls up, keeping their faces close. Dean swears he can see an entire galaxy swirling in the brilliant blue. “You take my breath away.”

“I seem to have the same problem when you're around.” He pulls back slowly, anticipating Mick’s arrival at any time.

“So, it’s been a slow one, eh?”

The bell over the door chimes, reminding Dean he just broke the number one rule; never comment on how slow things have been or look like they may be. It's only asking for the opposite to occur. Or maybe I dodged a bullet, he thinks as only one person, an older man with thinning brown hair walks in and takes a seat at the bar.

Dean takes a closer look at the newcomer as Castiel fetches his drink. Something seems oddly familiar about him and it's leaving an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He runs through a few cases he was involved with while still working as a uniform cop. Several domestic disturbances, muggings, car theft, none of them ring true with this guy. Dean hopes he's reading too much into it but he's also learned to follow his instinct.

He pulls out his phone, resting his forearms on the bar he positions it enough to capture the guy in his frame but also appear like he is just scrolling through a social media page. He snaps a few pictures getting a profile picture and as the man turns towards Dean, he snaps another.

Elaborating the ruse that he's flipping through screens he speaks loud enough for the guy to overhear. “Hey Cas, did I ever show you a picture of my nephew?”

“No, I didn’t even know you had a nephew. How old?”

“Seven. This morning I received a surprise phone call from my brother. They were on the way back home from visiting Eileen’s parents in Wisconsin and they wanted to know if I could meet them at the aquarium.” He flips his phone around, glancing nonchalantly at the guy sitting to his left. His attention is fixed on the television.

Cas studies the picture of Malachi, proudly standing in front of Nickle. The turtle appears to be whispering in the boy’s ear.

“He's cute. The only resemblance I see is the twinkle of mischief in his eye.” He hands the phone back.

“Luckily, aside from his hair, he looks like his mom.” Dean swipes the screen again and displays a picture he took of Sam and Eileen at lunch.

“Beautiful couple.”

“Inside and out.” Dean replies.

“Did you have a nice visit?”

As Dean answers, he sends a text to Charlie with the photos attached.

**Dean: I feel like I've seen this guy before. Something feels off.**

“It was good to see them. I really miss them.” He makes sure his phone is on vibrate then sticks it into his pocket just in time for Mick to appear with two plates of steaming food. He sets one down in front of Dean.

“Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” His plate is covered with a giant T-bone steak and a pile of golden onion rings.

“I know you said no vegetables but I didn't think deep fried onions would count," Mick comments to Dean. He nods his head when Dean shoots him a thumbs up as he shoves an entire ring in his mouth.

"Cas, I took the liberty of making you some dinner. I know you haven’t taken much of a break all day. Since you aren't a big fan of steak I made you something else.”

Dean sits up a little higher to get a peek at the plate in Mick’s hand. “Is that chicken parm? Oooh man, that looks good too!”

“That's very thoughtful of you, Mick. Thank you.” Dean’s heartstrings are tugging at the grateful look on Cas’s face. Dean wants to give Mick a big hug for the gesture. Castiel deserves things like this every day, several times a day.

As Cas takes the plate Mick tells him, “Why don’t you and Dean move over to a table? I’ll cover here.”

Dean and Cas look at each other briefly, neither of them moving.

“Go on, I got this.”

“Thanks, Mick.” Dean says slowly, getting up from his stool. He carries his plate to a table with Cas close on his heels. Dean positions himself facing the bar for two reasons. One he wants to keep an eye on the customer and two if he has his back to the room he may forget they aren’t alone and well, we know what happens when they're alone.

“Dean.”

Dean holds up a hand. “Again, I’m choosing not to over think it. Let’s just enjoy a meal together.”

Cas glances over at Mick who's now tending to a few more customers. “Yeah, lets.” He picks up his knife and fork and cuts into the chicken breast. “You were telling me about your brother and his family.”

“Mmmm-mm” Dean moans. He shoots his arm up into the air and gives Mick a thumbs up. “Freaking perfect!”

Mick nods his head and grins. “Enjoy.”

Cas is staring at Dean. “I’m going to ask you to please refrain from making that noise again.”

“Sorry, I like food. Very much.”

“Yeah, I gathered that but do I need to elaborate on what those…noises sound like you, we, are doing?”

“Sorry, I like that also. Very much more, in fact.” He winks at Cas as he pops another piece of steak into his mouth.

Exasperated he says, “So your brother…”

“Right. I met them at the aquarium and had lunch with them. This coming weekend is Halloween and since I have off they asked me to join them. They, uh actually invited you as well.” He adds.

Cas squints his eyes and cocks his head. “They know about me?”

“Of course they do. I talk about you a lot.”

“Huh.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, no I just, I dunno, this's all new to me. I guess I haven’t given any thought to your family. I mean, not that I haven’t thought about them, I enjoy hearing you talk about them, I just haven’t thought about me and them. Never mind, I’m not making any sense.”

Dean almost takes Cas’s hand but holds back at the last minute. “No, you make complete sense. They very much want to meet you because they know how important you've become to me.”

“Oh, but I work all weekend.”

“I know, it sucks. I told them that but we'll need to get together very soon. Not one of the three will leave me be until they meet you.” Now he does lay a hand on Cas’s wrist. “Don’t worry," he adds because the man looks petrified, "that’s a good thing.” 

“Ok.” Cas replies, he pauses to have what appears to be an internal debate with himself. “Ok, yes. I look forward to meeting them as well,” he says confidently.

Dean removes his hand. “I’m glad. Now eat that before I do,” he says pointing at Cas’s plate.

Dean feels his phone vibrate and luckily Cas doesn’t hear the faint buzz sound. He throws his napkin next to his plate. “I’m going to run to the can. Be back in a minute.” He glares at Cas, “Don’t touch my steak.”

“You may find a few onion rings missing but your steak will be fine.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “Only because I don’t think you eat enough, I'll allow it.” He pats Castiel on the shoulder before walking away.

He locks himself in the employee bathroom and takes out his phone. His stomach drops when he sees the reply isn't from Charlie.

**Benny: Tony ‘The Tiger’ Russo ring any bells?**

Holy shit, Dean thinks. Russo is the second in command of the Frank de Marco crime family.

**Dean: What the hell is he doing here? Isn’t their territory in Jersey??**

**Benny: I don’t know but that's NOT for you to find out. Keep a look out from a distance.**

**Dean: I’ll keep you posted.**

**Benny: You better.**

Dean joins Cas at the table and almost chokes on the onion ring he's chewing on. Cas looks up, startled at Dean’s coughing and follows his gaze.

“What's he doing here?”

“Got me. Don’t worry about it, we're supposed to be enjoying our meal. Remember? So, the boss is here, no big deal.”

Dean narrows his eyes slightly as Ketch waves at Mick then glides towards the back hall, halts in his footsteps, turns around to glance at Russo, then continues back down the hall.

Dean slaps a hand over his chest then reaches into his coat pocket. “Excuse me, I bet that's my brother texting me. I asked him to let me know when they made it home.”

He holds the phone so Cas is unable to view the screen. He looks down at his home screen, “Yup, he reports they're ‘home sweet home’.” While Dean types he speaks out loud. “Good to know. So good to see you, looking forward to this weekend. Talk on Friday.”

In actuality, he's texting Benny.

**Dean: Arthur Ketch now here. No contact made but it appeared he may have recognized Russo.**

Benny’s response is prompt.

**Benny: Keep me in the loop.**

Dean sends him a thumbs up then puts his phone away. “Sorry, I know its rude to text at the table but if I don’t reply he'll continue to send messages relentlessly until I do.”

“Did you give any thought to what you would like to do tomorrow?”

“Yes, much thought.” Cas drops his voice very low. “After you left I fell back to sleep as you instructed. When I woke up I thought about it while I was in the shower.”

It’s a good thing Dean is able to multitask so well (he thanks learning Sign language for that) because he may have been too distracted by his sexy as hell boyfriend’s words to miss Russo leaving the building.

“I was referring to our activities before going back to your place. I can’t think about our afterhours plan while around other people.”

“And you say I’m no fun.” His voice returns to its normal octave. Just above the, ‘I’m about to tie you up and you will call me Sir’, level. “Fine, dinner would be nice. Would you like me to make reservations since I know the area better and will be home all day? All day waiting and thinking….about you.”

Dean swallows hard. “That's is a logical idea. You do that. I’ll pick you up at 7.” He clears his throat and glances at their empty plates. “I better let you get back to work.” He wants to follow Cas back into the kitchen to “clear their table”, giving them the opportunity to kiss good bye but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to risk Ketch walking in on them. That British bastard has a sneaky way about him and Dean doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him.

They both stand. “I’ll see you at 7 tomorrow. Enjoy your day off.”

“Good night, Dean.”

“Good night, Cas.”

Dean walks away quickly before his hands grab a hold of Castiel’s muscled biceps and pull him in for a deep kiss. As he passes the bar on the way out he drops enough money on the counter to cover dinner and a generous tip.

“Thanks, Mick. That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

“On the house, Dean.” He holds the money out to Dean.

“Then you just made one hell of a tip, my favorite Irish lad. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mick.”

Once outside, Dean takes a detailed look around but sees no sign of the mobster. His senses are on high alert as he makes his way home, wishing for the first time since starting this case he was carrying his weapon.

Once home, he sends Benny and Charlie the all clear signal and crashes into bed. He doesn’t even care that it isn’t even ten yet. Today was a good day.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean lets out a loud whistle when Castiel opens the door to his apartment. “Maybe we should stay in after all. Damn, let me get a taste of you. Wait, I want to look first, then taste.”

Castiel’s blue dress shirt (sleeves rolled to his elbows) and red tie are tucked neatly into a form fitting navy vest and black jeans that accentuate every muscle of his thighs.

It feels like a life time has passed since Dean has been able to align his lips with Cas's. He wastes no time sliding his tongue in, licking across the roof and cheeks of his slick mouth. “Hmmm, that is better than any dinner plans you have made.”

“I’ve missed you too, Dean, but we have reservations.” He kisses Dean one more time. “I must say you look acceptable as well.”

Cas’s eyes travel down Dean’s body, taking in the sight of a sage green collar and hunter green tie peeking out under his black sweater. His bowed legs perfectly clad in tight black dress pants. “Yup, we better go. _Now_.” Cas tells him as he abruptly pulls open the door. He follows Dean out to the front curb where a four door hatch back Pontiac sits. Its color can only be described as, “yuck”.

Dean laughs at the pained expression on Cas’s face as they climb in. “Believe me, it is even more painful to drive this POS but it was the only car Bobby had that was in drivable condition.”

“I could drive.”

“I considered that but I asked you out and I want to do this right.”

“I don’t think there is a right or wrong way to do this, Dean.”

“I know, it’s just you're someone very special and you should be treated as such.” At the first stoplight, he reaches a hand over and moves a lock of hair off of Cas’s forehead. “I’m sorry, I have this constant urge to touch you.”

Cas catches Dean’s hand as he pulls away. “I like it, don’t ever stop.” He links their fingers together and sets their conjoined hands in his lap. “The restaurant is on 7th and Fair Oaks, just so you know where to park.”

“How was your day off?”

“Uneventful. Caught up on laundry, grocery shopping, picked up a little something for tonight, cleaned the bathrooms. You know, the usual.”

“Something for tonight, huh? Well we should be well stocked because I did the same.” Dean pulls into a space a block away from the restaurant.

“Good eye, I didn’t even see that til you were halfway in the spot.”

“See, I’m not just a pretty face.”

“You are so much more than just a pretty face…you have a nice set of gluts as well.”

“Come on, Smart ass, time for me to wine and dine you.”

Dean feels like a giddy teenager again as he takes a hold of Cas’s hand during the short walk to the front door. The way Cas squeezes him at first contact sends a small bolt of electricity straight up his arm into his heart.

Dean holds the door open for Cas. As he walks past, Dean slides his arm over his shoulders. Together they walk to the hostess podium.

“Welcome to _Johnny’s Steakhouse_ , do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, two under Novak.”

She grabs two menus and leads them to a booth.

“Ruby will be with you shortly.”

“I already had this place in mind when we first talked about going out, I hope its ok given what Mick made us yesterday.”

Dean is looking at the menu as Castiel is speaking. “Are you kidding? This is perfect! You really do know me.”

Dean doesn’t see the look of pride flit across Cas’s face as he looks down at his own menu.

"Good evening, my name is Ruby. Can I get you started on some drinks or appetizers?"

"I'm going to stick with water and I'm also ready to order. Dean?"

"I am as well and I'll have a glass of Merlot."

After taking their orders, the petite brunette removes their menus and heads to the kitchen.

The two hold hands across the table, each wearing a silly grin. "It's nice to be able to do this and not worry about being caught." 

"You know, Dean, I get the feeling Mick is on to us."

"Ha!" Dean barks, "Ya think? He practically set up a mini date for us yesterday."

"Maybe we don't need to be so secretive. I don't mean we should freely make out while at work but you know, maybe we can be...us. A Little bit, anyway." Cas looks a little pensive.

"Maybe we could test the waters out a bit next time we're around him."

Before Dean has a chance to elaborate on what he deems "testing the waters", their waitress appears with their food.

Ruby sets down Dean’s plate of tortellini with creamy pesto sauce and strips of grilled chicken and Castiel’s choice of sausage manicotti.

"Bon appetite, gentlemen. I'll be back to check on you shortly."

As soon as the waitress is gone, Cas leans over his plate. “Dean, I watched you polish off an entire T-Bone steak in under ten minutes yesterday and today you order pasta? Are you feeling ok?”

Dean puffs his cheeks up with air and blows it out slowly. “Actually, Cas to be honest,” he reaches for Cas’s hand across the table, “I’m really nervous for...after dinner.”

Cas’s face fills with confusion. “Dean, need I remind you I am, for all intense purposes, the virgin here? What do you have to be nervous about?”

“Are you saying you aren’t?”

“Actually, no.”

“How is that?”

Cas looks down at his plate. “Because I'll be with you.” He looks up at Dean. “I trust you completely and I know I will be in good hands. And I mean that in _every_ way possible,” he adds hoping to put Dean at ease a bit. "Besides I've been fantasizing about tonight since I first laid eyes on you."

“No pressure.”

Cas laughs. “I hardly think you have anything to worry about going by what has transpired between us thus far. How about we eat our dinner and you tell me a little more about yourself?  It seems I’m always the one doing the talking.”

“I like hearing you talk but I’m happy to share. What would you like to know?”

“I know you mentioned your Mother passed but what about your Dad? The only thing you've said about him is he lives in Kansas. Are the two of you on speaking terms?”

Dean stabs a piece of tortellini and, as expected, moans happily around his first bite. “Ugh, Cas you gotta try this.” He stabs another one and holds it out for Castiel. “Good, right?” Cas nods in agreement with an “mmm” sound.

“Yeah we talk often but it hasn't always been so good between us. We lost Mom when I was ten, a drunk driver hit her car on her way home from work one night. She was a nurse at the hospital. Losing Mom was hard on Dad. He hit the bottle and let the responsibility of raising Sam fall to me.”

Cas's mouth drops open ever so slightly as he listens.

“I mean it’s not like he left us alone for days at a time, he was always around but he may as well have been physically gone. The only reason he was able to hold onto his job was because he worked for his best friend, Bobby. Lucky for us he wasn’t a mean drunk. I've seen plenty of those in my day.”

“Bobby's the one with the salvage yard and auto repair shop?”

“One and the same. Bobby, and his wife Ellen, kept an eye on Sam and me as best they could. He would set aside a portion of Dad’s weekly checks in a separate account so Dad wouldn’t drink it all away. Bobby would pay our bills out of the account and give me cash for groceries.”

“Sounds like you had it just as rough as I did.”

“No, Babe, I had Sam.”

He makes a small humming noise before asking. "So what changed?”

“I was in high school and I had finally had enough. Mostly I was worried about Sam being alone. I wanted nothing more than to bug out on my own but I knew as long as things stayed the same, I would be stuck until Sam left for college so, with Bobby and Ellen's help, we held an intervention.

Sam and I told him if he didn’t sober up we would move out for good, we would cut him off completely from our lives. It wasn’t fair that I had to raise my kid brother, it wasn’t fair that we lost not one but _both_ our parents to that drunk driver. Bobby told him the next time he missed work because he was hung over he would be out a job.”

“How did he take it?”

“Not well. He stormed out after telling us all to go to hell. He was going to live his life the way he wanted to.”

“What did you do?”

“That very night Sam and I packed our bags and went to Bobby and Ellen’s. A week after we moved out he showed up on their doorstep a complete wreck having hit rock bottom. He begged for help, he couldn't bare to lose his family. Bobby took him to his first AA meeting then back to our house to help him dry out. We moved back in and slowly started mending fences. It wasn’t pretty at times and we burned through several therapists before we found one who would put up with the giant load of shit we had between the three of us.”

“That’s pretty, remarkable Dean. I must say I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. And for Sam as well. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“Thanks for saying that, Cas. It certainly wasn’t easy but it was worth it. He hasn’t had a drop since. Dad is now co-owner with Bobby and they run the business together.”

“That’s fantastic.” He lays his fork and knife across his empty plate. “Can I ask you something else?”

Dean drains the remainder of his wine. “Of course, anything.”

“How did the whole “coming out thing” go for you?”

Dean chuckles a little. “It kind of didn’t. I was always open with how I felt. When I was little I had an equal number of crushes on the boys then I did with the girls. The fact that I liked both and Sam only liked girls was just how it was. No one, including my parents, ever told me I “should” be any different then who I was. A few years ago my Dad admitted to me he had a tough time accepting it but in the end, he managed.” He adds with a smile, “he told me my mom didn’t leave him a choice in the matter.”

"If only more kids had parents like you did."

Dean raises an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean. Have you ever had a relationship on the serious side?" 

"Why, do I seem like a player to you?"

"No! I was just wondering if there was anyone you felt could have been the one for you."

"I never once thought he was "the one" but I thought, maybe, I would settle down with James. We even had a dog, well he had a dog, that hated me. Have you ever felt like an animal hated you because of jealousy?" He shakes his head and continues. "Fortunately, it wasn't meant to be."

"Isn’t he the reason you moved here?"

"Partially yes.  When our relationship ended I needed a breather, a fresh start.”

"What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?"

"I found him in bed with a mutual friend."

“I’m sorry to hear that. Not only did you lose your boyfriend but you also lost a friend.”

“Don't be, I'm not. For one thing I wasn’t all that crazy about Bela, her narcissism always rubbed me the wrong way so losing her friendship wasn't any skin off my back. Second, and most importantly, I would never have met you.  Everything happens for a reason, Cas.  Even the most difficult occurrences.”

"What a healthy outlook you have, Dean."

Dean's hand is tucked once again in Cas's when Ruby reappears. "What will the lovebirds be having for dessert this evening?"

Dean snorts like a child and Cas glares at him from across the table. He turns to Ruby. "I would like a slice of the Raspberry cheesecake to go, please."

"Do you have pie?"

"Sorry no pie but we have an amazing fudge cake."

Dean pouts his lips. "Alright, I'll try that. To go also, please."

"I'm happy to see you remembered your manners even while pouting."

"I like pie, what can I say?"

"You know what I like, Dean? I like the taste of your -"

"Here you go," Ruby sets two to go containers on the table along with their bill. "Enjoy your evening, it was a pleasure to serve you both." She winks at them both before leaving them alone again.

"You were saying, Cas?"

"Oh nothing that can't wait til we get home."

Neither even notice Cas's use of the word 'home'.

Dean digs out his wallet and quickly throws down enough cash to cover the bill and a generous tip. "What the hell are we waiting for?" He growls.

By the time they get back to Cas's apartment Dean's nerves are once again on high alert.

After they toe their shoes off at the door, Cas sticks their desserts in the fridge while Dean wanders into the living room. The last time he was there he didn't have a chance to really look around.

The moment he enters the room he feels Castiel all around him. One wall is a floor to ceiling bookshelf and every nook and cranny is full. In front of the book wall is a comfortable armchair and a small table with a reading light. The only other furniture is a well worn, dark grey couch and an antique looking side board in a slate grey. The remaining walls are bare, allowing the books to act as a focal point. The pale yellow paint of the walls play well with the grey furniture, giving the room an overall feeling of warmth.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Cas calls from the kitchen. Beer? Water?"

"No I'm good. Cas I love this room," he calls back.  Quieter, more to himself he adds, "I kind of just want to curl up on this couch and never leave."

Castiel's scent overwhelms Dean's nose so he isn't startled at the other man's suddenly close proximity. "Then don't." Dean suppresses a moan over how sexy his voice is when drops it so low.

Cas remains standing behind Dean as he runs the back of his fingertips over Dean's arm, feeling the contour of his muscles all the way down to his wrist. "Do you want to know what my favorite feature of this room is?"

"This wall? It is pretty amazing."

"It is nice but that's not it."

"Ok, I give. What?" He twists his neck to look at Cas.

Cas kisses Dean behind his ear. "You," he answers before grasping his ear lobe between his teeth.

This time Dean does not suppress the moan as it rumbles deep in his chest. He leans his weight backwards, pushing them back to chest.

Castiel's hands glide up Dean's chest over his soft sweater as his mouth continues on his ear and neck. His hands bunch at the fabric and tug, pulling it free of Dean's waistband. His hands claw their way under the layers, desperately searching for skin. Cas's palms feel ablaze as the fingers splay out and rub over hard muscle.

Dean presses further back onto Cas, dropping his head onto his shoulder. He flicks a tongue over Castiel's earlobe but the small taste is not enough. He lifts his head and spins on his heel, Cas's hands skim over his body with the sudden motion. Dean grasps the back of his head and joins their mouths together in a panting, wet tangle of pure ecstasy.

Dean's fingers move deftly over first the vest and then the shirt underneath, pausing only long enough to loosen the tie. "You know Cas, I thought I liked this outfit but now," he nibbles at Cas' jaw, "I have to say it kind of offends me."

Castiel pulls back and looks down at his chest. "I didn't think my clothes looked that bad."

"Oh it has nothing to do with how they look, I'm offended because they're covering this work of art." He pushes both layers off Castiel's shoulders and latches his mouth over his pectoral muscle, licking his way to his nipple.

"Hmm, we can't have you offended in any way. Let me remedy that." Cas brings his hands together behind Dean's back and quickly unbuttons his cuffs.

Dean pauses in his nipple snacking long enough to free Cas of the offensive garment, leaving the tie around his neck, he tosses the shirt and vest onto the floor.

Castiel unzips Dean's jeans, allowing him room to slide his hands down the back. He fills his hands with Dean's ass, squeezing hard.

"Oh God, your hands, Cas!" Dean rolls his hips against Cas, rubbing their hard cocks together. I need to feel more. He pulls his sweater off and Castiel immediately starts working on the buttons of the shirt. 

His fingers falter several times as Dean unzips his jeans and mirrors the gesture of grabbing his ass.

The moment Dean's arms are free of his shirt, he pulls Castiel in for another kiss. The veins of his strong forearms stand out starkly on his tanned skin. Their hard chests join together, sending rushes of heat straight to their dicks as their nipples brush together.

They simultaneously grab the other's ass again and pull. As their hips meet they grind together while their tongues explore.

"Dean let's-"

"I'm right behind you."

Cas grabs Dean's tie and gently tugs, holding it over his shoulder as Dean happily allows him to lead them down the hall.

Once inside the bedroom, Cas drops his grasp on Dean's tie and removes his pants and socks, leaving him in just his orange boxer briefs and red tie. He opens a drawer at his bedside table and pulls out a bottle of lube and tosses it on the bed.

"I love how efficient and prepared you are." Dean tells him as he removes his own jeans and socks. He isn't even standing up straight before Cas is pushing him down onto the bed.

Dean scoots back as Cas follows him on his hands and knees. Just before reaching the pillows at the head of the bed, Dean drops down flat. They lock eyes as Cas hovers above Dean, his knees boxing Dean's thighs. 

Cas's tie dangles from his neck, the tip tickling Dean's chest. Dean gazes up at Cas, barely above a whisper, he speaks on an exhale. "Where did you come from, my beautiful Angel?" His fingers thread thru Cas's hair, brushing the strands off his forehead. Continuing down the back of his neck, he slips the tie off when his fingers encounter the silky material.

"Doesn't matter." He stares into Dean's eyes transfixed as the shade of green darkens before him. "What matters is I have finally ended where I was always meant to be." He captures Dean's mouth, inhaling through his nose sharply as he drops his weight onto Dean's waiting body.

Dean flips Cas onto his back, removes his own tie before kissing his way down Cas's chest. Tongue leaving a wet trail, teeth biting at freckles, hands roaming. His lips move against Cas's hot skin as he speaks. "I just want to touch and taste every bit of you, my beautiful Angel."

Cas gasps, causing his stomach muscles to tense as Dean's tongue dips into his navel, biting at the skin around it. "All yours Dean. I'm all yours."

Dean lifts his head, "Cas." He waits for Cas to look at him before continuing, "Cas I need you to make me a promise."

Cas's head drops to the bed, hips squirming, "I promise anything as long as you do that again."

"Cas I"m serious, please."

He lifts his head again, pushing up to his elbows.

"What is it, Dean?" Concern edging his voice.

Dean moves up closer. "I need to hear you promise me you will stop me at anytime if anything is too much or doesn't feel... right to you. Don't hold back on me, if there is something you want, tell me."

Now Cas is the one running fingers through Dean's hair. Dean leans into his touch, his eyes flutter shut briefly.

"I promise, Dean. For the first time ever, there are only two of us here. Just you and I. The only voice I hear in my head is mine. It's screaming at me to allow you to show me what it feels like to be cared for. I'm here for your taking, you exquisite man. Only for you and I hope I'm not over stepping, when I say, _always_ for you."

Dean stares, speechless. He knows what he so desperately _wants_ to say, the three words on his tongue begging to be released. He denies his desire and, instead, pushes his tongue into Castiel's mouth, dropping the words there, hoping it's enough, for now.

Cas turns his head, freeing his lips and grinding up. "I believe you were in the middle of something."

"Ah yes," he scrambles down, "I was discovering my boyfriend has a bit of a bellybutton kink."

"Call it whatever you want just do go back to doing whatever you were doing," Cas groans.

Dean lays his hands flat on either side of Cas's navel while his tongue dips back in, lightly teasing at first. As his splayed fingers all press down into the soft flesh of Cas's abdomen, he runs his flat tongue from the bottom up through the middle. He blows gently over the wet skin before dipping back down and biting the tender skin with his front teeth.

"D-Dean. Again, p-please, ahh." His hips are now thrusting into the space above Dean's chest.

Dean repeats the licking, blowing of air and biting as his hands slide away from Cas's midsection, around his hips and under the waistband of his boxers. He pulls them down, past Cas's feet, tossing them aside as he kisses his way back up Cas's legs. He bites at the soft skin on his inner thighs.

Cas's hips are in constant motion, his hands pulling at the hair on the top of Dean's head. His sharp intake of air seamlessly turns into a "nnnn" at the back of his throat as Dean's mouth envelopes one of Cas's testicles. Dean revels in the sounds Cas is making and the taste of the pebbly skin under his tongue. 

Dean's hands are moving just as much as Cas's pelvis; rubbing and squeezing over Cas's thighs, stomach and ass.

After giving each testicle equal attention, Dean moves onto his cock. His mouth is dripping with saliva has he watches one drop of precome drip from the engorged head. He wraps his mouth around and slides down the length, letting his tongue curl, his own moan of satisfaction matching Castiel's. 

"Oh Dean, where the hell has that mouth been all my life? Ugh."

Dean's small laugh runs through Cas's dick as he hears Cas repeat his statement from earlier.

Cas pulls at Dean's hair, signaling him to stop. He pulls off and latches his mouth onto Cas's prominent hip bone. He sucks until there's a deep purple mark. Cas utters profanities between pants. 

Cas pulls Dean up towards him then nudges him onto his back.  Proving a point he had once made of "learning by example",  he does almost the same as Dean but he substitutes the navel with nipples. 

Dean's hands once again grip at Cas's ass while his nipple is being rolled between a wet tongue and sharp teeth. He doesn't know why his hands are drawn to the man's ass as if they are two sides of a magnet. It could be the way they fill his palms perfectly or it could be how he bucks into his palms with every squeeze. Either way, he wants nothing more, and yet, everything all at once.

Dean claws at Cas's back as he moves further down Dean's body. He slips a hand under his hip and rolls him onto his stomach. Dean immediately pushes into the mattress desperate for friction. 

He pulls Dean's boxers off and tosses them on the floor next to his own pair.  He kisses up Dean’s legs, his hands leading the way as they knead their way up towards his head.  Cas lays his body flush with Dean, his cock slotting between his cheeks, knees boxing in Dean’s thighs.

 They both moan as their bodies make full skin on, delicious, skin contact. Dean bucks his hips as Castiel grinds down. Cas encircles Dean’s chest over his rib cage, bringing his mouth to Dean’s neck.  Both men are breathing heavily, rocking against each other.  “Dean, I just can’t get close enough.”

“I have an idea how to remedy that.”

Cas lays a few wet kisses between Dean’s shoulder blades, marveling at his freckles.

“Cas, do what you feel comfortable doing.  Just do what feels good to you because, Jesus, _whatever_ you do will feel good to me. Ah, ah, mmm, your dick feels so good on my skin.”

Castiel rises up to his knees again, kissing down Dean’s back. “On your knees, please, Dean.  I want to get a look at you.”

He promptly pulls his legs under his body, putting himself onto all fours. He can feel Castiel’s eyes on him and it makes his cock twitch, begging for relief.  He is just about to touch himself when two warm hands rub up the back of his thighs onto his butt cheeks.  Precome drips from his heavy cock as a pair of lips kiss gently at the top of his crack. Two thumbs dip into the crevice and spread his cheeks.

“Oh Dean, you're so beautiful.  I wonder if you taste as good as you look.” He runs a thumb over his puckered hole. “So beautiful,” he repeats, this time to himself.

Dean can’t stop himself from pushing back the moment he feels a hot tongue lick across his hole. “Oh fuck, Cas.” He laps a few more times before breaching the hole. “Son of bitch, that feels so fucking good.” The strength in his arms gives out and he bends at the waist, resting his upper body on his forearms. The vibrations from Cas’s moans rock Dean to the core.

Dean grabs fistfuls of the comforter as he rolls back onto Cas’s probing tongue. “Cas, I want more, Baby.  I need more.” He lets out a small whimper at the sound of a soft snapping sound. He closes his eyes and waits.  The breath he's been holding rushes out of him on a short pant when a slick finger circles then slowly pushes in past his tight ring of muscle.

“Oh Dean, this is, Jesus.” Cas is now kneeling, left hand draped over Dean’s back while the right works his finger in and out.  He leans down to kiss at the rippling muscles under his still hand, his cock pressing against Dean’s thigh.

Dean looks back at Cas as he pulls his fingers out to add more lube. Dean impatiently rocks back onto Cas’s two fingers. His eyes are trained on Cas watching his fingers slip inside and almost comes undone. 

Cas's mouth is hanging open and his breath is coming out in short pants.

“Dean I swear, I could do this all day to you.  Just the sight of you on my fingers, ugh.”  His left hand trails up to Dean’s hair while his right alternates between scissoring and rubbing along his inner walls.   

Dean can feel the probing fingers looking for their mark and when they brush the intended mark, Dean let’s out a loud shout, dropping his head to the bed, grasping the comforter and rocking back onto Cas’s fingers. “Fuck, Cas I’m good.  I can’t wait anymore.  Baby, please.”

Cas pulls his fingers out and lets out his own little whimper as the muscle twitches, looking for his digits.  

Face still pressed into the bed, Dean grabs his cock and squeezes at the base.  He knew it would be intense with Castiel but he's having a difficult time reigning in the physical sensation his touch is causing.

"Dean?"

His head snaps up at the uncertain tone of Cas’s voice. He pushes back to sit on his haunches, facing the other man. His hair is in complete disarray and his cheeks are flushed pink. He looks stunning.  Dean cups his lover’s face, “Everything ok?”

Castiel smiles, “Yeah.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose. “Its just a little…”

“Intense?” Dean supplies

He opens his eyes. “Intense but good.”

“Still just the two of us?” He feels odd saying that like Cas suffers from some kind of split personality but he doesn’t know how else to check in.

"Just you and I.”

"Good because it's about to get a little more intense."

"What's the best way..."

"How we were may be the best way to start. We can always change positions once you've, uh, adjusted."

Dean kisses Castiel long and deep before getting back onto his hands and knees. 

Cas positions himself behind Dean. He applies a generous amount of lube, gasping at the first contact his neglected dick has had since it was in Dean's mouth.

Dean's cock twitches in anticipation as he feels pressure on his hole. He wills his body to relax as Cas pushes in. Cas's breath hitches as Dean's muscles involuntarily clench around the intrusion.

Cas halts the slow push in at the halfway point. The fingers gripping Dean's hip will more than likely leave bruises and Dean can't be happier at the thought.

Dean wants to speak, wants to tell Cas just breathe through it, think of something unpleasant like going to the dentist. Instead, he focuses on his own breathing, willing his body to relax, the more he opens up the easier it will be on his boyfriend not to finish before the warm up is over.  Even if Cas didn't make it much longer, Dean would probably follow him over in the same instant.

Cas manages to get his breathing evened out and continues pushing forward until he is buried deep, his hips flush with Dean's ass cheeks.

His recovery time is much shorter this time. "With me Dean? 

"Always, Baby."

He pulls out almost completely before pushing back in quickly. Dean matches his thrust. Their rhythm starts slow and mismatched but it doesn't take long for them to synch, slamming together at a rapid pace. Cas grabs Dean's hips and pulls him deeper, hitting his magic spot. 

Dean sees bursts of light. "Oh, fuck, yes. Oh Babe, right there."

"Dean, I need more." Cas is breathless as he pulls out gently and guides Dean onto his back. "I want-" Instead of speaking, he lays his body over Dean and kisses him, groaning as Dean grabs his ass. He pulls back enough to reenter.

He hooks Dean's thigh in the crook of his elbow and resumes his previous pace.

Dean is overwhelmed with how full he feels, the weight of his body, his hands running over his chest and his tongue as he kisses and bites anywhere and everywhere he can reach.

Dean's hands once again find themselves grabbing Cas's ass and pulling him in deeper. 

"Deeean. Oh Dean, this is...you are..." his words fade off into a incoherent string that ends on a low groan. He finds Dean's prostate and strokes it relentlessly, causing Dean to arch off the bed, forcing out a gasping chant of Cas's name.

"Dean, shit, Dean I-"

"I'm with you, Babe. Right there with you."

Dean can feel the heat gathering low in his belly, he finds it hard to catch his breath as they thrust together. He's holding on, waiting for Cas to fall first. His lids want to fall shut but he keeps them open, watching Cas, waiting for that moment. Dean's breath hitches when he sees it.

Cas captures the tip of his tongue in his front teeth, panting out around it. "There it is, Castiel, let go and fill me. I want to feel it all."

Cas bends at the waist, dropping Dean's leg, he wraps his arms around Dean's shoulder, pulling their bodies closer. The shift in position allows Cas to hit his prostate one last time.

Dean's puckered muscle clutches around Cas's cock, giving them both that final shove over. Dean grabs the back of Cas's head and pulls him down into a kiss.

Cas's hips stutter as Dean feels a warm sensation pump into him. They cry out together. Dean comes untouched, his seed arching between their chests.

They pant into each other's mouths as their eyes hold a steady gaze. "Wow." Is all Dean can manage at first.

Neither of them want to move, they want to hold the moment as long as they can. Cas's dick is softening and pulling out and still they remain. Their skin is damp with sweat and there's come drying between them but they remain joined, arms locked around the other. 

"Did I live up to any of your fantasies?"

"No." Cas replies and Dean's face is crestfallen.

Cas's face breaks apart on a smile, the creases surrounding his eyes and mouth are prominent. "You surpassed them."

Dean let's out a contented sigh as the two lazily kiss and speak teeth rotting nice things. Dean doesn't remember ever being so happy.

"I hate to break this moment but I think it's time to clean up, it's starting to feel gross." Cas says quietly.

"Yeah, I think you're right." He starts to move towards the edge of the bed as Cas slides off his body. He feels the loss and he doesn't like it.

Cas lays a hand on Dean's chest. "I got it, relax." He kisses Dean again before leaving the room. 

Dean watches the view as his lover leaves the room then drops his head back onto the pillow, slinging an elbow over his face.

The emotions are surging in him like an active volcano. Sex with Castiel was nothing he had ever experienced. Sex with James was good, rough and satisfying, but distant. He certainly never stopped in the middle to change their position because he didn't feel _close_ enough. Sex with Cassie was a little better but still, there was an absence of any type of deep connection.

Dean remembers the feeling that washed over him when Cas first pulled their chests together, Cas buried deep in him. Knowing Cas had a burning need to see his face, to kiss his mouth, the need to just be present. Dean will always carry that moment of intimacy.

He's vaguely aware of Castiel reentering the room and a warm cloth running over his body. His chest constricts because, again, this is new to him. With James they cleaned up, rolled over and slept.

What have I done? He thinks to himself. He's known for quite some time the true depth of his feelings for this man and soon it'll all shatter.  Castiel will be crushed with Dean's betrayal and he hates himself for doing that to him. All Cas has asked of him is honestly and what has he done? Lied. Are his reasons sound? Yes, but that doesn't make it easier knowing he'll be yet another person in Castiel's life to cause him pain.

"Dean?"

Dean startles as a warm hand touches his stomach, pulling him out of his head. He gently drags Dean's arm off his face.

"Sorry, I wasn't sleeping, I was just, uh thinking. He starts to sit up but the look on Cas's face stops him cold. Was he thinking out loud? Sam and Benny have both told him he does that on occasion. The panic starts to set in. "Everything okay, Cas?"

Cas's eyes squint and he cocks his head. "Dean, I should be asking _you_ that."

Dean laughs nervously as he pulls the sheet over his waist and pushes back against the wall.

Cas throws the clothes he's holding to the side and joins Dean in the bed. "Dean, honey." He touches Dean's face and he's surprised to see them glistening when he pulls them away.

"Well, shit!" He scrubs a palm over his face then grounds the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Sorry, you must think I'm some kind of pansy."

"Dean!" He wraps his fingers around Dean's wrists and pulls gently but Dean resists. "Dean, please, talk to me." He uses his deep authoritative voice and the officer trained part of Dean immediately complies.

He drops his hands in his lap but can't look Cas in the eye. He keeps picturing Cas walking out the door, leaving Dean alone and broken.

"Honey. Please." The tenderness, worry and the use of the endearment now causes the tears to stream down his face.

Cas wipes at Dean's face, cupping his jaw and laying soft kisses over his lips, forehead and nose. His breath hitches in his chest because he doesn't deserve this man. He needs to tell him. He deserves to know the truth. 

"Cas I don't want to h-hurt you." His voice is rough as he gathers his courage. "I've been selfish and I'm so s-sorry." His voice breaks again and he pulls away from Cas's hands. He hangs his head, trying to pull his shit together.

"Dean you aren't making any sense." He cups Dean's chin and forces his head up.

The look of concern in Castiel's eyes is heavy. They dart around Dean's face, looking for clues.

Dean reaches up to grasp Cas's wrist with the intention of pulling it away. He intends to come clean but instead he becomes lost in Castiel's stare. "Castiel I love you." That was _definitely_ not what he'd intended on saying, even if it is the truth.

He looks down again. "I know we haven't known each other more than a few weeks but I've felt this for quite some time. I'm sorry if I'm overstepping or fre-"

Dean's nervous rambling is cut off by his favorite pair of soft lips.

"Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?"

"More than I care to admit." He looks up cautiously at Cas.

"If you would give me a chance," he returns his hands to Dean's face. "I would tell you I love you too, Dean Campbell."

And there it is, his lie throwing up a red flag. He can't stop the tears that start again, or maybe they never stopped. He feels a little ridiculous but he can't seem to reign it in. "Cas you don't understand, I'm not -"

Cast cuts him off again. "Don't you dare tell me you aren't good enough."

Dean shakes his head because even though he knows that's also true, it isn't what he needs to tell him.

Strong arms encircle him and pull him close. Sam gives some pretty fantastic hugs but this, this is something completely different. Dean has never felt so safe and secure. For the first time he feels he has truly landed in a safety net following a free fall.

"I can't lose you, Cas."

"Dean, you're stuck with me. I love you." He kisses the top of Dean's head then leans to the side to grab a few tissues off the bedside table.

Dean feels a moment of déjà vu as he recalls doing the same for Cas the first night they were together. 

Cas wipes at Dean's face, laying kisses in the tissue's wake. "I'm sorry, that really came out of left field."

"Hey, stop apologizing. Don't you remember what you told me? Your feelings are valid, Dean."

"This, with you," he gestures at the bed, "what we just shared was-"

"Intense."

Dean exhales, "Yeah, intense, overwhelming and... perfect. I keep expecting to wake up to find it all a dream."

Cas nods. "Me too. Are you hungry? How about something to drink?"

Dean sighs. "No I'm just..really tired."

"Then we sleep."

"I need to run out to my car, I left my bag out there." 

"Here," Cas grabs one of the two pairs of sweatpants he had pulled from his drawer and drops them in Dean's lap, "you may want to cover up, the little old lady next door may have a coronary over how hot you are."

"Dirty old bird, is she?"

"She makes you look like Mr. Rogers."

"My kind of lady. I'll just be a minute."

Dean stops in the bathroom then heads out to his car. He sends a quick message to Charlie, letting her know there was a new delivery driver but nothing seemed amiss. Ketch also spent most of Dean's shift sitting at the bar but he was busy in the kitchen so he wasn't able to watch him too often.

Dean is anxious to crawl back into bed with Castiel so as soon as his message is sent he silences his phone and throws it into his glovebox.  Back inside the bedroom, Dean spies Cas’s pants still laying on the bed.

“Are we sleeping au natural?”

Cas shrugs. "Thought it might save us a few steps later.”

Dean grabs a few items out of his bag, drops it onto the floor and quickly sheds his own pants. “That's something I can fully support.”

“I didn’t think you would mind.  What do you have there?” He gestures to the items Dean had pulled out of his bag.

He opens his hand to reveal a bottle of lube and a packet of wet wipes. “Important items to keep at the ready.  It’s a good thing you had the same thought since I was so excited to get in here earlier, I forgot my bag in the car.”

“That would've been a mood killer.”

“I think we're all set to stay within this apartment for the next,” he glances at Cas’ clock, “sixteen hours.”

"Then we better get a little rest, that isn’t much time.” They slip under the sheet together, laying face to face.

Their hands clasp together between them. “Dean, I've had a few moments in my life when someone has shown me kindness but I've never,” his voice cracks a bit; he clears his throat and continues, his voice strong and clear in the moonlit room, “I've never known love. Thank you, Dean, for loving me so completely.”

"Cas, Baby,” he kisses the other man’s mouth, “please don’t make me cry again.”

Cas snorts out a laugh and kisses Dean. “We should sleep.”

Dean’s arm snakes under Cas’s neck, pulling him close to his chest while Cas wraps his arm tight around Dean’s waist.

Dean kisses the top of his head. “Thank you for allowing me to love you, Castiel.” In place of a response, Dean feels a light kiss to his chest.

 

@@@@@

Hours later, Dean awakens to find himself safely tucked under Castiel’s arm, one leg slung over his thigh. Their bodies fit together perfectly. Dean's never been one to cuddle, he's always been content to stay on his side and “visit” in the middle with his partner at the time.

Lying here with Castiel, feeling his chest rise and fall against his back, he knows he was always holding out for something better.  _Someone_ better. As he lifts the hand dangling over his stomach he knows his wait is over.  There's no one better, more beautiful, more fucking fantastic then Castiel Novak.

He studies Cas’s hand, noticing for the first time how dry his knuckles are, no doubt from constant washing of cocktail glasses, wiping tables, and mopping floors. He kisses each knuckle, thinking about the amount of arduous work his hands have done. He revels in the memory of this hand stroking his face with such tenderness, wiping away his tears. He turns his hand over and he presses his lips to the delicate skin pulsating with each beat of Castiel’s heart.

The lax fingers twitch slightly as Dean kisses his palm. Another part of Castiel also twitches against Dean's back as Dean traces the creases of his palm with his own finger. “That tickles but I love it.”

Dean pushes his head closer to that smoothing voice.  He tips his chin up as Cas tips his down, they meet in the middle, their tongues dancing their slow, fantastic tango.

“Well, I can tell you that doesn’t tickle, Mr. Novak.” Dean presses his ass against Cas’s rapidly growing erection.

“Mmm, do that again.” He hisses air through his teeth as Dean rocks back.

Cas sucks gently at Dean’s neck. He moves the leg draped over Dean, allowing him a better reach of his boyfriend’s body. His hand glides over his chest, stomach, and thigh before making their way between Dean’s legs.

“Mmm, do _that_ again.” He throws Cas’s words back at him as fingers wraps around his hard dick, giving it one short stroke. Dean lets out a whimper as the fingers do not comply.  His aching is short lived as two of the fingers finds its way to his hole, still wet and loose.

"Dean, it seems someone is already ready to go.  What's the fun in that?”

Dean lets out a small pant and pushes back onto the two fingers resting teasingly at his entrance. “No, I think I may need a little prep.  Think you could help a guy out?”

They moan together as the fingers slip in. He crooks his fingers, brushing against the small, spongy nodule. “F-fuck, Cas!”

“If you insist, my Love.” Cas spreads the precome down his length before pressing against Dean’s hole. He pushes his head in. Once his hand is free, he grabs the bottle of lube he'd stashed under his pillow before falling asleep and pours a little over himself. The liquid is cold but the heat he feels enveloping his cock head is a great distraction. He spreads the slick and steadily pushes the remainder of the way in.

Dean grabs behind Cas’s knee and pulls it back over his hip in order to take him in deeper.  “Mother fu…ugh Baby that's so, mmm right there.” He turns his head and engages Cas in a sloppy kiss.

Cas sets up a slow pace, Dean matching every thrust.  The room fills with their heavy sighs, wet kisses, and panting breath.

“DeanDeanDeanDean, you are perfect. My Dean.”

The possessive tone of Cas’s voice zings straight through Dean and his impending release hurdles to the surface. “Cas, touch me.” His breath is riding on short pants and he groans as he grips Cas’s thigh, using it as leverage to spear himself deeper onto Cas’s dick.

"Do you need me to go faster? I’m right there with you.”

“N-no I just need you to t-touch me.”

“Oh, but you came so nicely on just my cock earlier today.  Think you can do it again?”

Dean lets out a low keening noise. “CasCas I can’t, please…”

Dean cries out Cas’s name as he feels a hand wrap around the head of his cock. His head falls back onto Cas’s shoulder, his hand flies up taking a fistful of hair while his hips thrust up into Cas’s hand and back onto his cock. Long strings of come paint Dean’s chest and the back of Cas’s hand.

One more thrust and Cas is biting down on Dean’s neck, his own orgasm pulsing through him.

Their hips slow as the aftershocks subside.

"Cas, I'll have you know I have a long memory and I'll be sure to pay you back for your sadistic teasing."

"Dean, don't go making promises you don't plan to make good on."

"Ooh, going so soon Baby?" Dean whines as Cas pulls out.

"I'm not going anywhere, my beautiful Dean." He rolls Dean onto his back, kissing him deeply.

"Careful, there Babe, I kind of made a mess of myself." He reaches over and grabs the pack of wet wipes. He cleans them both up, tossing the wipes into the garage can next to the bed.

"We could take a shower." Cas tells him as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of Dean's damp neck. Inhaling the faint scent of sweat and citrus. "On second thought, you smell too good." He licks over the faint purple mark on his shoulder. "Taste just as good."

"Cas," Dean says sleepily, wrapping an arm around Cas' shoulders. "I'm going to need a little more recovery time before round three. I'm not young anymore." He yawns loudly to emphasize his point.

They both fall asleep with sated smiles on the face, fingers grasped together on Dean's chest.

@@@@@

Castiel stretches like a cat, lengthening his body alongside Dean's. 

"I could definitely get used to sleeping that well. Good morning Cas." 

Cas props himself up into his elbow in order to kiss Dean properly. "Good morning, Dean. I'm glad you slept well."

Now Dean stretches, noticing the dull ache in his ass and loving it. "You know Cas, I had this morning planned out in my head." He buries his nose into Castiel's hair. "God, how is it you always smell so good?"

"Your plan, Dean?"

"Hmmm? Oh right, my plan was to wake up before you, slip out of bed and make you a full breakfast."

"But?"

"But I couldn't bare to extract myself from your arms. They felt too good wrapped around me so I opted to fall back to sleep."

"As nice as that thought is, Dean, I much prefer to have you right here." He kisses Dean's pectoral muscle. "You know we do have our dessert in the fridge."

Cas's head moves suddenly as Dean inhales sharply. "You're right! Don't move, Babe! I'll be right back."

He slides out of bed and returns shortly with both containers, two forks and two bottles of water.

 "I could get used to this no clothes "thing" pretty easily." Cas says as he enjoys the view.

"How about no clothes and sugar?"

"Even better. How's yours?"

Dean holds out a forkful of chocolate cake. "It isn't pie but it's still pretty good."

Castiel offers up a bite of his cheesecake as he swallows down the cake.

"Yum." Dean says, "Rich."

"We have until 4 today, what would you like to do?" Cas asks Dean as he takes a pull of his water. He drops the empty plastic container into the garage can and the fork onto the table.

Dean does the same with his plastic and fork before crawling over to Castiel. "Oh I think I'm already doing it." His grin is predatory as he pins Cas by his shoulders and straddles his hips.

He's able to get the words "good plan" out of his mouth before Dean fully engages his tongue. The flavors of raspberry and chocolate happily mingling between them.

It isn't long before their lazy kissing turns heated as they grind their hard cocks together.

"We could finish this in the shower." Castiel pants between kisses.

Dean captures Cas's earlobe in his mouth and sucks. "Nope, I have you right where I want you." He presses down firmly with his hips, rolling them upward slowly. The feel of their cocks sliding together is dizzying.

Cas reaches out and grabs Dean's ass, pulling him closer as he matches the rolling motion.

They make their way back to kissing as the fire between them ignites. The idea of jacking them together with his palm crosses Dean's mind briefly but they seem to be doing just fine without the extra help.

"Damn, Dean. You got it, yes!"

They press their foreheads together, blue eyes locked on green and cry out each other's name. Milking their way through the orgasms rippling between them.

Their hips slow and Dean's weight drops onto Cas. Castiel slides his legs apart until Dean drops down into the space.

Dean's head is on Cas's heaving chest, rising and falling while his heartbeat thumps steadily against his ear. "We definitely need that shower now." His hand skims down Cas's ribcage, coming to rest on his hip, his thumb rubbing idle circles around the bone.

"K, just need a minute."

Dean lifts his head. "Oh no you can't sleep now. You know what a sticky mess we'd be once all this dries. Ew, no thanks." When Cas doesn't move Dean pinches his butt cheek.

"Ow!"

"Don't be a baby, I'm pretty sure I've bitten you harder than that!" He rolls off of Cas's body and heads for the bathroom, Cas close on his heels.

The lovers take their time exploring each other's bodies under the hot spray of the shower. Between kisses and happy sighs they manage to clean up and Dean discovers Castiel uses Cucumber and green tea shampoo.

After their shower they venture into the front of the apartment, fully clothed. Castiel goes into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee while Dean returns to the spot in front of the bookshelf he was standing in the previous night. 

Cas admires Dean from the kitchen, leaning on the breakfast bar as he waits for the coffee pot to fill. "You know it's a damn shame you have wrung me dry.  Seeing my pants hang low on those hips makes me want to take them off."

Dean looks down at his body then back up at Cas with a shy smile. "I guess I could've put my own on, I did bring some."  He shakes his head and returns to admiring Cas's shelves. "You've quite a collection here. Have you read all of these?"

Cas walks into the living room carrying two steaming cups. "Most of them." He hands one to Dean, "Black, right?"

"You got it, thanks."

They sit together on the couch. Dean sinks back into the cushions as he takes a drink. "Ah, it's just as comfortable as it looks."

"Cas, I don't see a tv in here."

The dark haired man shakes his head behind his upraised cup. "Nope."

Dean looks appalled. "I'm sorry, this can't continue!" He starts to get up and Cas grabs his arm on a laugh.

"I do have a laptop that I will, on occasion watch Netflix."

Dean sinks back down. "Well, ok, I guess that's acceptable." He winks at Castiel, thanking his stars, and anyone who'll listen, for putting man is in his life.

@@@@@

They end up modifying Dean's original plan of making a big breakfast by making lunch together.  They sit at the breakfast bar, stools pushed mysteriously close together, enjoying the BLT sandwiches, chips and, on Dean's insistence, macaroni and cheese.

"Don't make me eat the orange stuff, Dean." He had said as they pulled ingredients out of the fridge, piling them on the counter.

"Spoilsport. Fine, I'll make it from scratch."

Castiel has nothing but compliments over the gooey noodles as he tucks his fork in.

They move from one topic to the next starting with past jobs they've each held and eventually winding their way back to their favorite authors. It turns out they have read a great deal of the same but Dean is shocked to learn Cas has never read anything by the master, Stephen King. A wrong Dean plans to rectify as soon as possible.

"I was giving some thought to our "testing the waters idea." 

"Oh yeah?" Cas answers wearily as he rinses off the last plate from lunch.

"What if we just, I dunno, go into work today... together. Start there." When Cas doesn't say no, he continues. "We still have a few hours, we could both drive to my place and leave your car there. That way I'm guaranteed a kiss good night because you'll have to pick up your car." He adds with a smirk.

"I get to see your place?" Cas pushes Dean up against the sink, wrapping his arms around his neck.

"It's really small and I haven't done anything to decorate but yeah, I want you to see where I live." He tells him quietly.

"Then count me in, Dean." He kisses the tip of his nose. "What're we waiting for? Let's go."

Castiel takes a few moment to grab some proper work attire while Dean strips the bed. "It's the least I could do for defiling them so often." He tells Cas when he gives him a quizzical look.

"Did you hear me complaining?" He says with a smile. "Come on, I'll put fresh sheets on later. I'm anxious to see Casa Dean."

@@@@@

"This is small but really, what more do you need?"

"I can think of a few things," Dean says as he pointedly eyes Cas's back but instead he says, "a book wall like yours would be pretty sweet."

"Maybe a little color on the walls." Cas adds as he circles around the small living space.

Watching Castiel makes Dean long to take him to his real home. The three bedroom, fixer upper house he proudly purchased a little over a year ago, is in need of lot of work but it's still _his_. It makes him sad to think about it sitting empty during the time he's been here.

They drop down onto the couch as Dean flips on the tv. He sets the alarm on his phone, drops it onto the end table then wraps his arms greedily around Castiel.

The tv ends up acting as white noise as their kissing leads to Castiel giving Dean the best blowjob he's ever received. When he moves to reciprocate the favor Castiel stops him.

He looks a little sheepish, "Um, no need, Dean. I uh, kind of.."

Realization dawns on Dean's face and he feels bit of pride wash over him. "Really?"

"The sounds you were making were such a turn on and as I swallowed your, uh, well it just kind of snuck up on me. I'm glad I hadn't changed into my work pants yet."

"Come here, my pretty little cock slut. We have time for a little nap before we have to go and deal with.... people."

Cas lays down over Dean's outstretched body. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Please don't call me that again, I didn't like it."

"Sorry, Baby, I regretted it the moment the words left my mouth. I've never liked that phrase, I don't know why I used it. I'm sorry." He kisses the top of Castiel's head feeling a bit guilty.

Cas yawns. "No biggie, Dean. I love you."

"Love you too, Cas."

Dean's phone wakes them an hour later. They change clothes and walk to Capone's hand in hand, pausing at the door to kiss one last time. 

"Our time together has been indescribable, Dean. Thank you."

Dean moans around Cas's lips. "The pleasure was all mine, Babe."

They pull apart in the slightest amount possible, walking through the door together, fingertips _just_ about touching.

"Good afternoon, fellas." Mick greets them cheerfully from behind the bar.

"Hey Mick."

"Hello, Mick. How are you?"

I'm good, Cas. How are you?"

"Real good, thanks for asking," he answers back before rounding the corner down the hall.

Dean smiles happily at his boyfriend as they hang up their coats. Today is going to be another good day, he thinks. How could it not be with, undoubtedly, the love of his life by his side?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet access may be spotty over the next two weeks so it might be a bit of time before I am able to update. I hope this helps get you through the wait.  
> LTTU


	9. Chapter 9

Walking into Precinct no21 is a bit surreal. It makes Dean feel like he's returning to a former job and everyone's excited to say hi and stop to chat; however, this isn't a former job. This is still, very much, his current place of employment.

"Hiya there, Dean! It sure hasn’t been the same without you around here.”

Dean smiles wide as a warm feeling washes over him. “Hi, Donna, it’s good to see you.” 

"How’s the case going?” She asks as she pulls out of their hug.

"I guess I’m hoping the Captain'll be able to answer that for me. From where I’m standing it's dead in the water.”

"Oh, I doubt that.  Remember, you're only seeing a tiny sliver of the pie, my friend. How’s it working with that bartender? Ireland sure knows how to grow them nice.”

Dean laughs. “I would imagine his wife would agree with you.”

"Wife, eh? That’s too bad. Ah well, can’t win ‘em all.”

Or if you're lucky enough, Dean thinks to himself, you win the ones who have eyes to get lost in and a voice that'll lure you home.

"Officer Winchester!”

"Oh, looks like you're up.  Take care Dean, maybe I’ll see you soon. I may need you to rescue me from another drunk hailing from the Bayou.” She flashes her dimples at him.

"You certainly don't _need_  to be rescued by anyone, Detective Hanscum. Now if you _want_ rescuing, on occasion, that's a different story!" He gives her a wink before turning on his heel.

"It's no wonder you get all the girls...and the boys." Dean turns to find Officer Masters. He gives the feisty, petite brunette a quick one armed hug. When they first met Dean wasn't a huge fan of Meg, the sarcasm is heavy with that one, but over time, she grew on him.

"Captain Turner is waiting so I can't stop but we should get together for drinks when my case is wrapped. And by that I mean really get together, not just say it and never do it."

"Oh sure," she purrs, "I'm sure you say that to all the Ladies."

Dean looks around. "Ladies? What Ladies? I only see you." 

"You better get your tail in there before the Captain demotes you to Meter Maid."

They smile at each other on a wave.

Dean shakes the Captain’s outstretched hand.  “Have a seat, Officer.” 

“Thank you, Sir.”

“How're things? I 've appreciated your prompt reports every week. Very thorough." 

Dean sits up a little straighter in his chair. “Thank you, Sir. I guess I should be asking _you_ how things are since you already know how they're on my end.”

“I detect a hint of frustration.”

Dean hesitates to answer but decides Captain Turner has always been a no non-sense guy. The truth's always the best option. “Maybe a little.”

“That’s one of the reasons why I asked you in today.  I know you have the weekend off and you're headed to your brother's but I wanted a chance to check in with you.”

Dean pushes away that feeling that he's living in a fish bowl. Everyone knows his every move. “I feel like I’m wasting resources being there.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, I just wonder if I could be more useful somewhere else.”

“Actually Dean, your input's been extremely helpful. The squeeze on Metatron is starting to get tighter and that's, in part, thanks to you and your keen sense of observation.”

“Me? How so? I hardly think my reports every night on the number of beers I serve or the number of burgers I sling are very useful."

"Ah, I see we've moved _beyond_ frustration."

Dean's shoulders slump. "My apologies, Sir, I mean no disrespect."

"It's ok, Dean. We've all been where you are. You have moments where you forget you busted your ass in the academy and pushed past the first years as a rookie because you've been mopping the same floor for months.

Or you've been working the late shift at the school library for over a year, dealing with kids who're riding through on Daddy's money and couldn't care less about their education."

"I get the feeling we aren't talk about me anymore."

"We are, Dean." His normally gruff voice gets a little softer. "I'll repeat my point, we've all been there. It was worth every minute of those 14 months spent in that library when I was able to collar the son of a bitch who'd been raping and beating students on campus. Turns out he wasn't another student as my superiors had suspected. It was, in fact, a professor."

"Jesus." Dean says an an exhale.

"Yeah and guess who figured it out?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "That's right, because no remembers the quiet, loner librarian is still present when using the computer late at night. He had no idea how I'd noticed how different his behavior was when no one was looking.

As he sat in the corner at a computer, gone was the happy go lucky Economics professor, in his place was a rude sleeze who'd leer at the girls when their backs were turned."

"We do what we need to do to get the bad guys off the street. We blend in with our surroundings, or in your case, you turn on the charm, flirt with the customers, chat with the locals, take note of the new ones because that's what a bartender does."

You're getting the job done, Officer Winchester. It may not seem like it but you are. I can’t give you too many details, it’s better if you stay blind.

Now that some time has passed we've started watching the warehouse you tipped us off to.  There's been a lot of traffic running through there and we have many solid leads.”

“Well I guess that’s good.”

“That’s great Dean.  Our inside guy obtained video surveillance that shows Metatron personally placing the counterfeit bill you discovered, into the cash register.”

“Wait, you mean he didn’t use it as payment?  He stuck it in the till? I don’t understand.”

Dean isn't surprised to learn there are hidden cameras, even if he has let things get a little too far with Castiel on occasion, he'd always assumed they were present.

“He waited until you were busy with a customer.  We believe, as you also suspected, that it was a test. A test you passed with flying colors.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, huh.  Good thing you followed your Captain’s orders and didn’t try to keep the bill for us.”

“So how's that helpful to the counterfeit case?”

The Captain tilts his head. "It’s more like a plus in the column for you because it makes you more trustworthy in his eyes.”

"The biggest piece you've helped drop into place is Metatron’s connection with one Frank de Marco.”

At first Dean doesn’t understand but it only takes him a minute. “Tony Russo.” Captain Turner nods. “But he stayed for two beers then left, never spoke to anyone. Arthur Ketch even showed up while he was still there but he went straight back to his office.”

“Dean, if you'd never let Charlie know he was there, we never would've started digging for a connection.  As you pointed out to Detective LaFitte, de Marco’s territory is in New Jersey.” 

“So, there's a connection?” Dean asks, hope starting to seep in around the edges of his frustration.

“Several, actually.”

“But you can’t tell me any of them?”

“Bingo. Look on the bright side, I may be able to pull you out sooner than expected. There's just one more thing I wanted to check with you on.” 

“I’m all ears.”

Captain Turner pulls out two manila files.  “What do you think about your two co-workers? One Michael Davies.” 

Michael? Dean thinks, _oh_ so it is a nickname. “I don’t read anything negative from Mick, Sir.  He seems to be a hardworking, honest man.”

“Okay.” He picks up the second file and Dean feels himself tense.  “What about one Castiel Novak?” Dean cringes as he pronounces it Cas _teel_. “His file reads like a ‘How to Become a Mafia Foot Soldier’ manual.”

Dean is gripping the arms of his chair very tightly, trying his best to reign in his anger as the Captain continues. He _knows_ Castiel is supposed to be just another player in his case. He _knows_ Rufus isn't bad mouthing or putting Castiel down. He's  _just_ doing the research of the job and yet, Dean wants to punch his superior ranking officer in the nose in order to protect the honor of the man he loves.

“Orphaned while still in the hospital, in fact he was named by the nurses on staff. He remained a ward of the state his entire childhood, as an adult he held a string of blue collar jobs and now he works for Metatron.” The Captain looks up from Castiel’s file and waits patiently for Dean to answer.

“His name is pronounced, Castiel, sir.” Dean’s voice is very soft as he swallows down the urge to get in his Captain’s face and ask him who he thinks he is to speak about Castiel like that.  Like he's some washed up nobody.  He wants to tell him until he's blue in the face that “One Castiel Novak” is one of the hardest working, kindest, funniest, bravest men he's ever, and will ever, encounter in his life.

“What?”

But instead, Dean clears his throat. “His name, Sir, is pronounced Castiel.”

“My apologies.”

Dean nods his head. “No, Sir, he's not involved with Metatron.” He raises his voice a bit, keeping his true feelings in check.  “He's just like you and I, trying to do our job so we can get home to our loved ones at the end night.”

Captain Turner drops Cas’s file. “Great.  Unless you've any questions for me, go and enjoy your weekend off.  You've earned it.”

Both men stand and shake hands. “Keep up the good work, Officer Winchester.” 

Dean nods. “Thank you, Sir.” 

Dean makes a beeline for the front door. He managers to nod at the few people who say Hi to him. He should really head down one floor to see if Charlie and Benny are are around but he just wants to get out of there. 

The tightness in his chest doesn't loosen until he's safely tucked into his POS car and heading towards his brother’s home.  He draws in his first full breath as he merges onto the Interstate. He thinks of Castiel, hoping he's sleeping peacefully in Dean’s bed.

After work the night before, Castiel didn't drive home as planned. As they stood in front of his parked car he couldn’t bring himself to unlock the door and Dean sure as hell wasn't encouraging him. 

In fact, he was encouraging him to do the opposite. ‘Encouraging’ defined by Dean Winchester, would be sucking on the tender skin of Castiel’s neck, kissing several areas of his handsome face, and running a wet thumb around his naval. It worked.  By four in the morning they were a tangle of limbs on Dean’s bed, both heavily satisfied after making love.

In the morning, Dean kissed him softly, whispered in his ear to stay as long as he needed to and lock up behind him when he left.

Anything with a connection to Dean Winchester, his laptop, phone and wallet, are all currently with Dean. The only personal items in the apartment are photographs displayed proudly on his fridge and most of them are of Castiel.

As far as Castiel knows, he left early to get a head start on his eight-hour drive to Kansas. Dean really hates lying to Castiel.  He debates telling him the truth.  He knows Castiel is trust worthy and wouldn't do anything to hinder his cover but then he thinks about Andrea.  He knows her death wasn’t a result of Benny being a cop but the fear of Castiel meeting harm in any way is enough to make him decide against telling him the truth.

The short drive to his brother's home in the suburb of Frankfort, is second nature to Dean. As he passes the exit for his own house, he thinks about stopping but decides his need to see his family over rides the desire to walk through an empty house.

The door is flung open before Dean even reaches the front stoop.

Sam meets him halfway with a welcome hug. "Hey Sammy. How's it going?"

"Real good. You?" He slaps his hand onto Dean's shoulder, guiding him to the house.

"Can't complain."

A bundle of live wires in the body of a 7 year old boy leaps out and yells, "Boo!"

"Trick or Treat!" Dean yells back.

Malachi stops. "You don't say that, you aren't a kid!"

"Who says it's only for kids?"

Mal is giggling before Dean has even picked him up. He picks him up and turns him upside down, letting his legs drape over his left shoulder. "Then I'm just gonna take all _your_ candy!" He tickles his nephew's stomach til he rolls his knees forward, doing a backflip over Dean's arms and ending with a guided landing on the floor.

"Mal, go wash up for lunch," Eileen tells her son. 

"Hi Dean, I'm so glad you could join us this weekend. Sam, er I mean Mal, has been so excited!" She reaches up to give him a hug, winking at her husband.

Sam slaps Dean's shoulder again. "We've all been pretty excited."

"Did she just say lunch?" Dean repeats the question to Eileen once he's in her line of sight. "Did you just say lunch? It's not even," he looks at his watch, "eleven!"

"My son, unfortunately, takes after his father. Wide eyed and ready to go at 5." She laughs at the horrified look on Dean's face. "That makes 11 o'clock lunch time around here."

"Just think of it as breakfast, Dean."

"No need to talk me into it, I can always eat."

"We know." Eileen and Sam say in unison.

"Yeah you two think you know me so well."

"We do," they reply.

"Whatever. What can I-"

Eileen hands him a stack of plates and utensils.

Dean sets the table, ignoring his brother's smirk that says, "See, she knew you would offer to help."

Sam sets out a bowl of chicken salad, a plate of raw veggies and dip, and a loaf of sourdough bread.

"Ooooh, did you make this?" He asks Eileen, pointing to the bread.

She nods her head yes. "Just for you," she signs silently, her back to Sam.

Dean takes a step forward and smacks a kiss on her cheek. "You're the best."

"I know." She tells him.

"Uncle Dean, wait til you see our costumes, they're _awesome_!" The live wire has returned.

"You can show me right after lunch."

"Haven't done much baking lately, have ya Dean?" Sam is watching his brother cut a huge chunk of bread. The look he gives Dean is a mixture of awe and disgust.

"It's been almost a month. I think it's time to do something about that."

"What did you make?" Mal asks as he shovels in a forkful of chicken salad.

"Cinnamon rolls." Dean answers around a mouthful of bread.

Sam shakes his head, he signs to Eileen while the other two talk. "They have the same terrible table manners."

"I know," she smirks, "it's like passing a wreck on the highway."

Dean notices the hand movements and turns back to Mal. "You know they're talking about us."

"Yeah, whatever." He says like he's used to it and couldn't care less. "So, who did you make the cinnamon rolls for?"

"What do ya mean, how do you know I didn't make them for myself?" Dean asks incredulously.

Eileen snorts but Mal's the one to answer. "Because you make them _huge_ and even you can't eat a whole batch! Did you make them for Castiel?"

"Maybe."

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Have things gotten more serious since our last visit?" Leen asks.

"As a heart attack." He signs.

Sam almost chokes on his bell pepper. "Wait, have you used the L word?"

"Yes."

"Wow," they both say.

"How's that a surprise? Weren't you both there when I poured my heart out in front of the giant amphibian?"

"Reptile." Mal signs.

"What?"

"A sea turtle is a reptile. Even though it lives in the sea and on land like an amphibian," he explains as he takes another bite of salad, "it lays eggs with hard shells, making it a reptile."

"Well thank you, Mal-wikki, I always learn something new when I'm with you." He ruffles Malachi's hair then pulls him closer to kiss the top of the boy's head.

His nephew beams with pride as he snaps on a carrot.

Dean turns back to Sam and Eileen. "Weren't you both there when I poured my heart out in front of the giant _reptile_?"

 "Of course we were but I didn't realize..."

"That Castiel felt the same way." Eileen finishes for Sam when he struggles to find the right words.

"Yeah, we'll go with that." Sam replies.

"We're happy for you, Dean."

"Yup, she's correct on that one too," Sam says.

"I'm done!" Mal shouts. "Can I show Uncle Dean our costumes now?"

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until right before we put them on? That way it's kind of a surprise." Dean asks him.

"Good idea! Mom, is it ok if I go over to Alex's house for a little while? She has a new scooter so we can finally ride together and you all are going to talk about boring stuff."

Eileen touches Mal's cheek. "Wear your helmet and be home before dinner."

"Or when Jody grows tired of having two crazy, knucklehead, 7year olds under foot," Sam teases.

Mal kisses each of his parents, drops his plate at the sink before calling, "Bye!"

"Bye, Little Man." Dean tells him as he whizzes past.

"Why don't you and Sam go out to the garage while I clean up?"

"We can help, Babe. It's _only_ a car."

"Fightin' words, Little Brother."

"Such children, get out of my hair!"

"Thanks for lunch, Leen." 

"Yeah, thanks, Honey."

Dean scurries out of the room as Sam and Eileen kiss.

Sam slides off the dust cover as Dean trails his fingers over her shiny, black hood. "Hello, my Girl. You didn't think I forgot about you, did you?"

Baby answers back with her tell tale squawk as Dean pulls her door open.

He sighs heavily as he slides in, hands skimming over her wheel. He reaches for the ignition but the empty space beside him on the bench stops him and he drops his hand.

Sam's face fills the passenger side open window. He rests on his forearms as he watches his brother.

"Sam, wanna go for a ride?"

"No, I'm good, besides I don't think I'm the one you want sitting there."

Dean gets out of the car. "Got that right. No offense."

Together the brothers replace the cover. "None taken, Man. I know the feeling."

"Thanks for holding her for me," he pats the hood again as they walk out of the garage," I just couldn't leave her in my driveway unprotected."

"Not a problem, that third space is usually used for storing our bikes and snowblower. When you're back home we should talk about building you a garage. I'm sure Benny would help."

"That's been on the top of my list since I bought the place, you see how well that's going for me."

The two wander to the back of the house and climb the back deck, each taking a seat.

"Don't worry, you'll get there."

They enjoy the tranquility of the quiet yard, the sounds of kids playing baseball at the park a block over, float their way.

"You've built a beautiful life for yourself, Little Brother. I'm proud of you."

"Hey, you're doing pretty damn good for yourself as well, Dean. Don't sell yourself short."

Dean waves a hand at him. "A sweet wife with a killer sense of humor who puts up with your snooty ass. The two of you're raising this amazing, compassionate little man. You're doing good, in fact the two of you should give that little guy a play mate. I could give him a whole bunch of ideas on how to torture a sibling."

Dean glances at Sam and does a double take when he sees the ear splitting grin on his face. He pushes to the front of his seat. "Wait, is Eileen...are you going to..."

Sam tries to school his face but fails miserably, the grin just pops right back up. "Yeah, she is."

Dean leaps from his chair and throws himself at his brother. "That's fantastic! What great news."

"Dean! Dean, you can't," he looks over his shoulder through the double glass doors that lead into the kitchen, "you can't tell her I told you. More importantly, Mal doesn't know. We want to wait until she's further along."

Dean slaps Sam on the back, his grin matching Sam's. "That's awesome. I won't say a word!"

"Dean," Sam stares. 

"Fine, no signing either," he relents, hands flying, face solemn. "Killjoy," he says aloud. The grin returns just as quickly as it left.

The conversation flows easily, as it always does when the brothers are together. The air sucking sounds of the sliding glass door announces Eileen's presence.

She steps out carrying two glasses of iced tea. "Sorry to interrupt, thought you boys might want something to wet your flapping tongues."

They stand to accept the glasses with gratitude. Dean turns to Sam. "Like I said, killer sense of humor." He turns back to Eileen and he can't help the giddiness that over powers him, he's grinning again and he's bouncing on the balls of his feet. The ice in his glass clinking softly.

"You told him, didn't you?!" She smacks her husband in the chest with her tiny palm.

He curls his chest, hunching in his shoulders as he steps away from his wife. "I didn't say a thing, I swear!"

"He didn't, I guessed. Congratulations, Sis." He thrusts his drink into Sam's hand so he can hug her properly. "I'm so happy for you both." He finishes when they pull apart.

"Thank you," she signs. "Don't tell Mal."

Dean mimes zipping his lips and throwing away the key. "That's a promise I _know_ I can keep."

@@@@@

"As I recall from one of our Skype calls earlier this month, someone has a game he wants to lose to his uncle over." 

The family is sitting around the table on the deck. Dean insisted on making and grilling burgers for dinner.

"No way, I'm going to beat you silly, Uncle Dean. I've been practicing my driving skills."

"That's an interesting sentence coming from a kid," Eileen says on a laugh.

Dean pops the last of his burger, his second of the evening, into his mouth. "I say, tomorrow before you fall into a candy coma, it's on like Donkey Kong."

"No, Uncle Dean, it's Mario." He pauses, "Although, you can pick Donkey Kong, he's the ape, right?"

Dean sits with his mouth agape.

"I'm just kidding!" He holds his fist out to bump Dean. "It's on like Donkey Kong!" He repeats as they all laugh.

@@@@@

"Whatever happened to Trick or Treating at night? What's with this daylight BS?" Dean whines as Eileen hands out the Ranger weapons.

"Safety, Dean," Sam tells him.

"Boring," Dean replies.

"Stand together, let me look at you three." Eileen tells them. 

The Winchester men take a fighting stance, looking silly but loving evey minute of it. Leen snaps a few pics on her phone. "Handsome devils," she tells them.

Eileen takes Dean's place and he snaps a few with her phone and his as well. "This reminds me," he tells the two adults as he swipes through his own screen. "I just sent you each a message with my burner phone. I keep my real phone hidden or locked away so you might want to use this one. Just watch what you text and stay clear of the name Winchester."

"Got it."

"No problem."

As they stride down the street, they receive several compliments on their costumes.

"You did a fantastic job on these, Leen."

"Nah," she says. "Just a little clothing dye and sewing of felt. Easy."

"I will admit, I was relieved to see cotton and not that shiny, slippery stuff the original Rangers wore."

"Lycra?" Sam provides.

"Yeah, that!"

"You would've worn it for Mal." His sister teases him.

"Of course I would've but can you imagine Sam the Moose here wearing that?" He throws a thumb over at Sam.

"Yeah, I can, that's why I made him a separate one. It's waiting at home." She bounces her eyebrows at Dean.

"Ewww!" He cries, scrubbing at his eyes. "Make it go away!"

"Who knew you looked so good in pink, Dean?" Sam retorts as he gives his wife's shoulders a squeeze.

"I knew. I look good in anything...and nothing."

Now it's Sam's turn to scrub at his eyes.

"Hey, what's Cas's number?"

"Why?"

"I want to send him this picture I just took of you and Malachi." He turns his phone displaying the image of them "battling" on their neighbor's yard. Dean's pink clad leg is raised in a wheelhouse kick while Mal is leaning backwards to "avoid" the assault.

Dean smiles, the skin at his eyes crinkling. "Can you send it to me too?" He rattles off Cas's number. "Just, you know..."

"I know, be mindful of what I type. Campbell, right?"

"Correct."

Two houses down and Sam's phone rings out the theme to _Star Trek Voyager._ He reads aloud from the screen. "Hello Sam. Thank you for sharing this with me, that was very thoughtful. Looks like you are all having a good time."

"So formal," he comments. "I like that."

"Yeah, that's my Cas." Dean says, lost in thought.

His phone signals again and Sam snorts. "Please tell Dean he looks good in pink."

Malachi calls it quits once his bag grows too heavy for his twiggy arms to carry.

"Let me help you out with that, Buddy," Dean says as they approach their house.

"No way, I know your game, Winchester!" He cries, pulling his bag out of Dean's reach.

"What?!" 

All three of the adult's mouths drop open before bursting into laughter.  The littlest Winchester bounces through the door on a wave of their love.

Sam and Malachi are seated on two of the three beanbag chairs lined up in front of the television set, white steering wheels clutched in their hands. They're "practicing" while Dean changes out of his Ranger outfit. Eileen is curled up in the armchair behind them, reading a book.

"You guys mind if I make a quick phone call?"

"Say Hi to Cas," Sam yells over his shoulder.

Dean paces behind Eileen's chair, about to hang up when Cas finally picks up.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hi Cas, ho-" Dean stops mid sentence as his brain catches up with his mouth, "wait, are you ok, Babe? You sound like you've been swallowing glass."

Dean's too caught up in worry over Cas's well being to see the chain reaction that occurs before him. Sam turns to look at his brother when he overhears his words, Mal follows suite and Eileen catches their sudden motion and follows their gaze to look at Dean as well.

"Everything ok?" She signs.

Dean shakes his head minutely.

"Unfortunately, I believe I have caught a stomach virus."

Dean tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder. He splays out the fingers of each hand. Simultaneously he taps the middle finger of his right hand to his forehead and the middle of his left hand to his stomach. _Sick_. "Oh Cas, Baby, what can I -"

He grabs the phone in his hand again as Cas breaks in.

"Dean, I'm sorry I gotta g-" Silence as the phone clicks off.

Dean lowers the phone, staring at Cas's smiling face on his home screen. He's trying desperately not to worry, he is a grown man after all. But -

"Uncle Dean?"

"Yeah, Mal?" His eyes are still glued to the phone nestled in the palm of his hand.

"Is your boyfriend sick?"

His nephew's sweet voice, laced with concern, pulls him out of his trance like state. He looks up at him. "Yeah, he is."

"Is he throwing up?"

"I'm afraid so."

Mal scrunches up his face. "I _hate_ throwing up," Sam chuckles softly next to his son and runs a hand over the back of his head, "but you know what always makes me feel better?"

"What's that, Malachi?"

He looks at his Mom. "When Mom rubs my back. Or Dad." He adds quickly, looking at Sam. "You should go and take care of him."

"He's right, Dean, go." Eileen tells him firmly, climbing out of her chair.

Dean starts to protest but Sam adds, "No one wants to be alone when they're sick."

There's the word that finally gets Dean moving. _Alone_.  That's all Castiel has ever been. Alone. "Not anymore," he says quietly to himself.

"I'm sorry to cut our weekend short." His family has now surrounded him and all at once they tell him not to apologize.

"It's what we do for family," Eileen tells him. 

"Dean, don't you remember me bailing on our camping trip that one time?"

"I do remember that, vaguely. Why're you bringing that up now?"

" _Because,"_  Sam stresses as if to say "duh", "I cancelled because I wanted to be with Eileen."

"He drove eight hours straight to sit with me when I had strep throat," she signs. " _Eight_ hours just to sit with me and feed me ice chips." This last sentence she speaks aloud in order to emphasize her point.

Dean brings his gaze up to Sam, his younger brother shrugs his shoulders then signs. "I would've done 18. I love her."

"Thank you." Dean silently signs to all three of them.

Dean hugs them all and promises Mal they'll reschedule their Mario cart face off soon. He gathers his things and jumps in the car, speeding towards the city.

He makes two stops along the way; the grocery store and his apartment. In record time he's pulling up to Castiel's apartment building. He's just about to reach the outer door when he realizes he doesn't have a way in. He sure as hell isn't going to buzz Cas and risk waking him up. As he contemplates actually breaking the law and picking the lock, it swings open.

Cas's neighbor, Chuck, appears. "Oh hey there Dean, fancy meeting you here." He takes in the sight of Dean's arms occupied by grocery bags, back pack slung over his shoulder. "Let me get this for you." He holds the door open wide, allowing Dean to pass through. One problem solved, he thinks.

"Thanks Chuck, you have a nice day."

"You too, Dean." He gives him a quick wave before scurrying off. Dean's impressed Chuck remembers his name, they only met yesterday morning while he and Cas were heading over to his place.

Forgetting about the little guy, he strides down the hall to Cas's door and finds it hanging open by half an inch.

He furrows his brows and pushes in. He takes a quick look around. He hopes the silence means Cas is sleeping. He removes his shoes, sets the grocery bags on the counter and drops his coat and back pack onto the breakfast stools.

Walking as quietly as he can, he peeks around the door frame on the right side of the hall. Castiel is curled up on his right side, facing the door, wearing a blue Terry cloth robe, shirt and several blankets. His breath comes out in short, wet sounds. Sleeping, but definitely not the kind of sounds you make while sleeping soundly.

He starts to back out of the room but the silence is broken by Cas's deep raspy voice. "Dean?"

In two strides Dean is kneeling next to the bed. He runs a hand through Cas's hair, not surprised to find it soaked. "Hey, Baby. How you doing?" He keeps his voice low as he stokes his pale face.

"Am I dreaming? Wasn't I just talking to you on the phone?" He croaks.

 _Oh shit._ Riight 8 hour trip in under two. "Actually, Cas, I was already on my way here when I called you. I was missing you too much and I decided to rectify that."

Castiel starts to sit up. "Stay there. Don't get up on my account." Cas leans back onto his elbow instead of laying down.

"Dean you shouldn't be here, you should be with your family." He pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut.

Dean is watching Cas's face closely, he's actually grown paler and his breathing as gotten shallower. Dean casually reaches down and grabs the garbage can before Cas has even managed to sit up completely. 

Cas clutches at the can like a life preserver as he retches. Dean rubs his back and shoulders, plucks a tissue off the table, and waits patiently. He starts to lay back down but Dean presses down on his shoulder. "Just give yourself a second." The words aren't completely out of Dean's mouth before Castiel is leaning over the can again.

Cas closes his eyes. "Fuck." 

"You good?" Dean asks gently.

Cas nods his head on a shaky exhale. "I think so."

Dean guides him back down to his pillow, holding the can out to the side. He wipes at his mouth with the tissue and pulls the blanket back up over Cas's shoulder.

He cleans the can out in the bathroom, washes his hand and returns the can to its spot by the bed before walking back into the hall. He retrieves a wash cloth from the linen closet and wets it under the bathroom faucet.

Dean lowers himself to the bed with a hand on Cas's shoulder. "Baby, is there anything I can get you?"

"Dean I don't want you to see me like this." The strain on Castiel's voice tells Dean Castiel's been vomiting a great deal, it's painful for Dean to listen to the strain. "You should be with your family, not cleaning out my puke bucket. Gross." He opens his eyes briefly but he won't look at Dean.

"Yup, I couldn't agree with you more." Now Castiel opens his red rimmed eyes. Dean smiles at him, "Someone in my family's in rough shape and I'm here to help because I love him." He gently wipes Cas's face and neck with the cool cloth.

Cas's let's out a small whimper and leans into Dean's palm, his hand comes up to grasp at Dean's wrist, cloth still pressed to his cheek. Cas's hand feels like a burning ember against Dean's skin. Dean leans down and presses his lips to his forehead, letting his kiss linger. He finds the heat there just as intense. "I'm right where I want to be." He rubs the tip of his nose against Cas's, holding his gaze and waits for Cas to nod. " Dean returns the nod and pulls back. He refolds the cloth and lays it over his boyfriend's forehead. "And as for all that," he gestures to the can on the ground, "need I remind you I raised my brother and took care of a drunk for eight years? There isn't a body fluid I haven't cleaned up. None of it bothers me in the least so you can punt that insecurity right out of your head."

"Thank you, Dean."

"No need to thank me, just let me take care of you. First thing we need to do is get you more comfortable. We have to shed some of those layers." He gets up and grabs a T shirt out of Cas drawer.

"I can't seem to get warm enough." As if on cue, a shudder shakes his whole body.

"That's because your body's fighting off a fever and you're drenched in sweat. Can you sit up for a bit?"

Cas groans but with Dean's help, he sits up. Dean pulls the robe off and tosses it to the end of the bed. "Arms up."

Cas complies and Dean pulls his wet shirt over his head. Dean is blasted with a heat wave that radiates off his boyfriend's chest. He quickly wipes his chest, back and stomach down with the drying cloth before dropping the fresh shirt over his head. Cas is putty in Dean's strong hands.

He flips his pillow over then lowers him back down onto his side. "Are you better on your back or side?"

"Side. The room is spinning." He takes several deep breaths before relaxing slightly.

Dean sits back down on the edge of the bed. "Babe, how long have you been like this? Why didn't you call me?"

"I was fine up until yesterday afternoon rolled around. I was exhausted and achy.This morning, I was heading out the door for work and had to make a fast break to the kitchen sink."

"That explains why I found your door open. I wish you would've called me." A thought occurs to him. "Actually I'm surprised Mick didn't call me to work."

Cas shakes his head. "I reminded him you were out of town. I didn't want your weekend with your brother interrupted," he pauses, hand blindly reaching out. Dean grabs his hand and gives him a tug, pulling him up and puts the can in front of him. "Get it out. You're okay. My poor guy."

He rubs at his tense shoulders and neck. Dean winces a little when he thinks how his words sound like he's talking to a little kid. But then again, full grown adult be damned, every time he's sick he wishes his mother was around. A sharp pain hits Dean as he thinks of a little Castiel sick and alone with no one there to comfort him. Dean tells himself that'll never happen again.

Cas drops back down onto his pillow with a groan as Dean sets the can aside. "I'll soon be ejecting the lining of my stomach at the rate I'm going."

Dean pulls the sheet and blankets back up under Cas's chin. "Could be worse," he says as he wipes down his face and mouth, "could be coming out both ends." He pats Cas's hip as he stands, bending down to retrieve the can.

"Oh I had that problem as well, thankfully it has seemed to pass."

 "There you go, looking on the bright side of things. I'll be right back, don't get up."

"Ha ha." The sarcasm that follows him into the bathroom makes Dean smile even as he adds water to the can and swishes it before flushing it down the toilet. He sets the can on the bedside table for easier access before washing his hands and freshening up the wash cloth. He places the cloth onto Castiel's forehead then heads to the kitchen to get his bag.

As he walks into the bedroom, Cas cracks one eye open and watches Dean pull out a book, set it on the opposite side of the bed before dropping his bag next to Cas's dresser.

"Dean?"

"What can I do?" He asks, resuming his seat next to Cas, hand automatically going to pet his hair, his thumb rubbing at his temple.

"Dean will you," he looks up at Dean, the dark circles under his eyes prominent against his pale cheeks, "can you lay here with me? I'm just so tired."

"Of course, Baby, that was my intention all along." He looks at Cas's dry lips. "You certainly shouldn't be drinking anything but do you want to maybe swish some water around your mouth?"

"That would be good. I really wish I could brush my teeth."

"Your gag reflex has considerably improved with time but I wouldn't recommend sticking anything near the back of your throat right now."

Cas moans as Dean leaves the room. "That's my boyfriend, even when one of us is puking up their guts, he manages to work sex into the conversation."

Dean returns with a bottle of water. He hands it to Cas, minus the cap. "Swish, DO NOT swallow." Cas complies and spits the water into the waiting trash can.

"Bet that's the last time you ever say that to me." He wipes at his chin with the wash cloth.

Dean lets out a loud, barking laugh as he rounds the bed and climbs in. "I'm so proud!"

Dean makes himself comfortable against the wall, making sure everything he may need is easy enough for him to reach. 

Cas rolls over, keeping his movements slow. Right before he lays his head on Dean's thigh he twists at his waist and grabs the can, setting it closer to Dean. "You seem to anticipate my needs before I do," he tells him sheepishly.

"Years of experience watching cues, My Love." Dean doesn't add that fact alone has saved him from cleaning up several unpleasant messes from the backseat of his squad car.

"Now Cas," he drops Cas's pillow over his lap and guides him down, "there's something that's been bothering me a great deal and frankly, I don't know how much longer I can stick around without a change."

He picks up the tattered book he brought from home. "I just can't continue being intimate with someone who's never read Stephen King."

"Dean, I'm hardly in any condition to read."

"Oh Cas, my sweet naïve bean, I want to read _to_ you."

Cas lifts his head and looks up at Dean, his face scrunched up. "Really? Huh." He leaves the unspoken words that no one's ever read to him, hanging in the air.

"Yes really. Now get comfy. Are you warm enough? I can get you another blanket."

"No, for the first time since you left me on Friday, I'm good. I just wish my stomach would cease it's revolt."

"In due time Hon. The best thing you can do now is sleep." He smiles as Cas snuggles up closer to Dean's leg, wrapping his arm tight over his thighs. "You good?"

Cas nods his head so Dean opens up his book. "Prepare to be drawn into an alternate universe filled with suspense, mutant creatures, and a Wayward group of people that merge together to form a family. Fighting together against an unknown enemy."

His fingers settle into their natural position, that is, carding through Cas's hair. " _The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed."_

"Simple, and yet, I'm already intrigued."

An outsider may think Castiel is being sarcastic but Dean knows better. His chest puffs up with pride. He bends at the waist in order to kiss the top of Cas's head. "As if I needed one more reason to love you."

Cas smiles into his pillow as he's lulled by the rise and fall of Dean's soothing voice.

Dean has just gotten to the part where the gunslinger builds a fire, the cool desert air settling around him, when his narrative is broken by soft snoring. Dean smiles down at Cas and kisses his head again. He continues to read, silently now, knowing he'll be reading it again later but that's okay. He's lost count of how may times he's read this book anyway.

"Wh-what? What do you need?" Dean is startled awake at the movement on the bed. Cas is sitting up, knuckles of his hand white as he grips the can. He's breathing slowly in and out with his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

The lines around his eyes smooth out as soon as Dean lays a hand on Cas's shoulder. "You okay, Babe?" 

Watching his face carefully, Dean massages at the knots of his neck and shoulders. Cas pulls in a deep breath and slowly releases it. He opens his eyes. Dean takes note that his cheeks have a little more color to them and his eyelids have a little less red. "I think... I'm good. False alarm."

"I'm glad, now come over here and give your Lover boy a proper hello." He holds his arms out to the side, twitching his fingers inward. 

"Lover boy, really Dean?" Despite his annoyance at Dean's cheesy line, he falls into Dean's embrace on a sigh.

Cas pulls away abruptly. "Ugh, I stink Dean, don't"

"Get back here, you're fine." He gently pulls Cas back into his arms, carful not to move him to quickly. "I've missed you."

 "Missed you too, Dean." He pulls away again. "Nope I can't stand it, I need to take a shower."

Before Dean can protest, Cas throws the covers aside and stands. He quickly drops back down onto the bed. "Whoa." He says as he grabs his head, right hand resting on the can just in case.

Dean rounds the bed, wraps an arm around Cas's shoulder, and kisses his temple. His lips move against his clammy skin. "Cas, you're severely dehydrated and weak. Don't push yourself. Lie back down and I'll fill the tub."

"Dean, I'm not a child."

"Never thought you were," he calls over his shoulder. "Now lay down!"

He fills the tub and dumps in some bubble bath he finds stashed in the back of the linen closet. 

He rushes forward and throws an arm aournd Cas's waist when he finds him making another attempt at standing. "Slow down there big boy. Always so impatient."

"Ha! You should talk, Dean." Together they walk across the hall to the bathroom.

"Yeah yeah, you love me anyway." He lowers Cas down onto the closed toilet seat lid. "Arms up."

"I think I can manage to undress myself, Dean."

"Cas, _now_ you're acting like a petulant child. Let me help you."

Castiel loses the brief staring match and reluctantly raises his arms. Dean shimmies off his sweat pants then helps Cas stand.

On shaky legs he steps into the warm water. Dean lowers him down, smiling at the deep moan that erupts from the other man.

"Nice? Warm enough?" He wets a washcloth and wipes down his face, shoulders and chest. He ducks into the hall and returns with a hand towel. He cups Cas's neck in his palm. "Sit forward a sec." He tucks the towel under his head, onto the small lip near the wall.

"Thank you Dean."

"I'll leave you be, just holler -"

"No, please stay." Cas surges forward and grabs Dean's hand. "Please, if you don't mind."

"Of course, I don't mind." He sits down on the floor next to the tub, mirroring Cas's position as if he were in the tub with him. "If this tub wasn't so damn small I'd climb in there with you."

"I guess I'll have to settle for this." He takes Dean's hand again and raises it to his mouth, kissing the back of his fingers. "Dean I'm sorry of I'm being a pain in the ass."

Dean's eyebrows crease and he shakes his head. "Stop, you aren't. At all. I know how difficult it is to be... vulnerable."

Cas lays his head back onto the towel and stares at the ceiling as he speaks, both hands still clutching Dean's. "I only know how to do this alone. When I was eleven I had this awful stomach ache. I tried ignoring it but it just got steadily worse. My teacher finally took notice of my distress and sent me to the nurse's office. She took one look at me and called an ambulance. I was utterly humiliated."

"Because of the attention being paid to you?"

Cas stares at Dean for a short time. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Pluck thoughts straight from my head. You instinctively know things about me that took me years to figure out."

"I dunno, I guess it's because we're a lot alike. I once broke my arm and didn't tell anyone.  Bobby noticed me favoring it and despite my protests that I was fine, he took me to the hospital."

"I guess it's a good thing we each had adults around to look after us even if it was only on a rare occasion. If my teacher hadn't sent me to the nurse, I more then likely would've died of sepsis."

"Appendix?"

"Yup, burst in the surgeon's hand."

"Little too close for comfort."

"The upside was I had two entire days away from Naomi."

"She never came to visit?"

"Oh hell no, didn't call to check in either. The nurses had to call her to let her know I was being discharged. When she picked me up all she could do was complain about the fact she was waisting her lunch hour and I should be grateful the state would be picking up the tab on my little 'stunt'."

"Damn! Stunt? That woman was truly certifiable."

Cas shrugs his shoulder, "Eh, I expected nothing less. I just tuned her out. She dropped me off at the front curb of the house and sped away. I must've been quite the pathetic site hobbling in pain towards the front door."

"Fuck," Dean mutters under his breath, closing his eyes, trying to force away the image. "As long as I'm breathing, you'll never be alone." He gets to his knees, grabs Cas's face and kisses his mouth. "I love you." He sits back down and takes Cas's hand again. "Are you getting cold? I can add some more warm water."

"No, why do you ask?"

Dean lifts Cas's arm out of the water. "You're covered in goose bumps."

"Well, those could have something to do with the smoking hot guy that just kissed my unbrushed, dry as a desert lips, without even the slightest bit of hesitation."

Dean leans his body towards the door, making a show of looking into the hall. "Where? I want to see a smoking hot guy!" He looks back at the tub. "Oh, there you are!" he cries, then kisses Cas again.

Castiel shakes his head in disbelief. "All joking aside, I would like to brush my teeth," he reaches up and touches his head, wrinkling his nose, "and wash my hair."

"Let's do the hair first, that way if you hurl from the toothbrush invasion you won't have to, you know, finish bathing amongst your stomach contents."

"Well, that's gross." He tells Dean's back as he runs to the kitchen to grab a big cup.

"Just using logic, my friend."

Cas takes the cup from Dean and douses his head. After popping the top off of Cas's shampoo he breathes in deeply. "You know you've ruined me from walking down the tea aisle in the grocery store. I see 'Green Tea' and my olfactory memory fills with the scent of your hair and I grow a chub."

"Funny, I now have the same problem with the smell of leather."

He cocks an eyebrow at Cas.

"Like your jacket." He answers dryly. He reaches for the shampoo bottle but Dean pulls it out of his reach.

"Nuh uh," he tuts, "I get to do this." He rubs the shampoo between his hands, working up a good lather before pushing it through Cas's hair. He massages gently, working small circles with his fingertips, eliciting small cooing sounds from Cas that Dean finds downright adorable. "Jacket, huh? Here I was all excited thinking you want to start talking kinky stuff."

He turns the water on to fill the cup with fresh water.

"I'm up for that as well."

"How about we revisit that topic at a future date? Close your eyes, Babe."

Cas closes his eyes and tilts his head back.

"Speak up if you start to feel dizzy." Dean finger combs through Cas's hair as he watches the soap bubbles run clear then squeegees off the excess with his palm. "There, that's done. If you're still feeling okay I'll grab your toothbrush and then I'm going to change the sheets on your bed."

By the time Castiel finishes brushing his teeth he's shivering so much the water is rippling around him.

He allows Dean to help him out of the tub, dry off and put on clean clothes. 

Dean rubs a towel over Castiel's head. "Hey, what do you know, it looks perfect!" 

"Very funny, Dean." He runs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it.

"No use, Good Lookin, it has a mind of its own and I like it that way." He drops the towel and sits next to Cas. He gives him a one armed hug, laying his head on his shoulder. "How are ya feeling, Baby?"

"Well, my head hurts. Actually, everything on my body hurts but my stomach seems to be ok for the time being."

Dean kisses his forehead. "Your fever has dropped. Is the room still spinning?"

"All is calm."

"See what a little sleep and TLC can do for a body? Want to try a little Gatorade? Fluids will help with your headache."

"I don't have -"

"No worries, I stopped on my way here and I have you all set. I didn't know what flavor you liked so I just got a variety."

"I'll give it a try, I'm not picky on flavor."

"Get comfortable, I'll be right back." 

Castiel looks at the time and is shocked to see it's already 8 o'clock. "Hey Dean."

Dean's handsome face appears around the corner.

"Dean, you should eat something when you're in there."

He shakes his head. "I don't want the smell of food entering your orbit."

"I'll be fine. Please, eat something."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Fine, but let me get your drink first."

"Small sips." He reminds Cas as he hands him the cold beverage.

'Yes Dad." He takes a small drink before setting the bottle to the side.

"Ewww, please don't ever call me that again."

Cas laughs. "Sorry, that is pretty gross."

"Didn't you say you have a laptop for watching videos?"

Cas closes his eyes. "I think it may be in the living room on the side board. If it's not there, it's in my car."

"Bingo," Dean says to himself as he picks the computer up off the side board. Once in the bedroom he hands it off to Cas. "Holler if you need anything."

"Help yourself to anything in there." He sinks down into his pillow, setting the computer aside.

In the kitchen, Dean takes stock of Cas's fridge and cupboards. "Figures," he mumbles, "I'm surrounded by health nuts. You and Sammy will get along fine." Speaking of Sammy, he thinks. He digs out his phone and sees he has several text messages. He sets it on the counter and continues his hunt for dinner.

He reads through his messages from Sam as he eats his turkey, pickle and mustard sandwich. He had considered a beer but opted for a Gatorade.

"Were you talking to me?  I thought I heard your voice but I may have fallen asleep."

Dean laughs. "I was talking to myself. I was thinking you and Sam will get along great."

"I'm glad to hear that but how did that come up in conversation....with yourself?" He leans against the wall to steady his shaking legs.

"Smart ass. Your cupboards are just as boring as Sam's. All healthy food."

"So what, you were thinking we would discuss the benefits of not dying young of heart disease?"

"No!" Dean sighs, "It was a long thought process, you know what, never mind. The real issue here is you're out of bed. Why are you out of bed?"

"I was lonely but now I'm starting to regret my decision." His hand goes to his stomach and the color drains from this face. "I'm just gonna-" he gestures down the hall.

"Told ya." Dean tells his quickly retreating back. He sits quietly, listening. When there's no sound of Cas getting sick he finishes his sandwich and sends a reply to Sam.

**Dean: Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I think he may be on an upswing. Please give Mal a hug for me, I still feel guilty skipping out on our game. Love to Leen as well.**

**Sam: Glad he's feeling better, hope you aren't next. Give him our best.**

"Sam says he hopes you feel better." Dean drops his phone next to the bed." I'm going to change and brush my teeth."

Dean lets out a loud yawn moments later, as he climbs under the covers. "Did you want to watch something?"

"Nah. Would you mind reading to me again?"

"Yeah? I would love to. He watches Cas move the garbage can off the table and set it on the floor. "Feeling better or are you a gambling man?"

Cas smiles as he turns off his light, leaving Dean's on. "Much better now. I caught a whiff of pickles and I thought I was a goner but I persevered."

"Hmm, told you." He says with a smirk as he folds his pillow in half, propping his head up. "Well enough to kiss me yet?"

"The last thing I want to do is get you sick."

Dean pulls Cas down onto his chest, smarting over being rejected. "Ha! More like the last thing you want to do is clean up my puke."

"Dean, I hope you know that isn't true!" He sits up, moving his face closer to Dean.

"I know, Cas," he says quietly, "I'm just teasing you." 

"I can handle that." Castiel tells him. "What I can't handle is you thinking I wouldn't want to do everything in my power to care for you."

"Please kiss me, Cas."

Castiel, never one to deny Dean of anything, joins their lips. "Mmm" rings out in unison as they melt against one another.

Cas pulls back. "Honestly, Dean, I don't want to get you sick."

"I'll take my chances, if it's going to happen it's going to happen. Might as well enjoy my time while I can."

Cas shakes his head. "You're insatiable!"

"Again," he tells Cas as he gets comfortable draping his body over Dean's, "that's why you love me."

"One of the many reasons, anyway." Cas's voice rumbles up towards Dean.

Dean kisses the top of Cas's head. "Shhh, time to find out what The Gunslinger is up to." Dean opens the book, back tracks a bit and picks up where he believes Castiel may have fallen asleep earlier in the day.

It isn't long before both men are sound asleep. The stresses of the day fading away.

Most of Sunday is spent in the confines of Castiel's bedroom. They alternate between binging _Dexter_ on Netflix, sleeping and Dean reading to Castiel from  _The Gunslinger._

As the sun sets, Castiel has worked his way up from drinking Gatorade to eating crackers and dry toast.

@@@@@

On Monday morning Dean slips out of bed to get ready for work, he's working a double shift to cover Castiel's absence. He kisses Castiel's forehead, now void of all fever, and leaves a note on his empty pillow.

**Take it easy today. Soup is simmering on the stove. Small portions! I'll come by between shifts, sooner if I'm able. Please call if you need anything. Love you.**

When Dean is able to sneak away from work he finds Castiel showered, dressed and sitting in his living room, reading _Duma Key_ by Stephen King, an empty soup bowl on the table beside him.

He stands and greets Dean with an enthusiastic kiss, hands reaching down to grab his ass.

"I'm glad to see someone's feeling better." He smiles and trails the backs of his fingers down the side of Cas's cheek.

 "I had an awesome caretaker. How're you, Dean?"

"Tired but good."

Concern paints across Cas's face when he kisses Dean's forehead. "You feel a bit warm."

Dean pats Cas's shoulder and walks into the kitchen. "I'm fine. I'm just not used to working so many hours after all that time off. How was the soup?" He asks peering into the pot.

"Delicious. I've never seen tomato and rice in a can before. Did you make it from scratch?"

Dean leans against the counter and nods his head. "My Mom used to make it for me when I was sick." He shrugs his shoulder. "I know it's kind of an odd choice but it always made me feel better."

Castiel leans his body into Dean, wrapping his arms around his neck. "Not odd at all and it made me feel better as well. Thank you, Dean. That was very kind of you." He kisses him briefly, "Let me dish you up a bowl."

Dean places a hand on his arm. "No I'm not hungry. I need to get back to Capone's, I just wanted to check on you, make sure you didn't need anything."

"I think I'm good. Still a bit shaky but good."

"Oh, Mick wanted me to tell you he put you on for a few hours over the lunch rush tomorrow. If you aren't up for it just let him know."

Castiel eyebrows shoot up, "He knew you were going to see me today?"

"I'm pretty sure our secret is no longer such."

"Wait, aren't you off tomorrow? Mick is covering the whole place himself?"

Dean shakes his head as he walks to the front door. "While we were away he hired two more part time people, both with experience. Not only that, but Erica is out of town and he said he'd rather be working than sitting home alone."

"I know the feeling well," Cas mutters to himself.

"Good choice in reading material, Babe." Dean gestures to the book butterflied open on the couch.

"Yeah! It turns out I had it on my shelf." Castiel says proudly. "I didn't want to finish the other one without you."

Dean leans in to kiss Castiel goodbye. "No worries, there are six more books in the series." His eyes widen. "I almost forgot," he digs in his pocket and presses a key into Cas's palm. "If my bed happens to be occupied when I get home I wouldn't mind."

That evening Castiel is surprised when Dean arrives home by midnight. His hair is plastered to his forehead, his skin pale, jacket bunched tightly in his fist.

"Dean?"

"Feel free to say I told you so, Cas. I'm pretty sure I -" He cuts himself off, shoves his jacket at Cas and runs to the bathroom.

"It's a good thing I brought the leftover Gatorade and soup with me," he tells the empty room before hurrying to his boyfriend's side. 

@@@@@

Monday night and into Tuesday Castiel rubs Dean's back and shoulders, cleans out his bucket, wipes his face with a cool rag, kisses his sweat soaked head and reads aloud to him from _The Drawing of the Three_ (Dean's favorite of the series) until he falls asleep.

Castiel leaves for his brief shift, returning home as quickly as he's able. He speaks gently as Dean vomits again upon waking. He helps Dean with a bath then tucks him back into a fresh set clothes and bedding.

Castiel does all of this without hesitation because he loves this man and can't bare to see him hurting. Although he knows Dean would never confirm it, Castiel suspects there wasn't anyone to care for Dean after the loss of his Mother.

No one should be alone when they're sick.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short one but I was able to update sooner than I expected. Please point out any grammatical errors, this was composed on a very small keypad.  
> <3
> 
> Full disclosure. The first part of this chapter is purely for my own heart. There are few things that I love more then listening/watching Misha tell a story. Doesn't matter if I have heard it 20 times.

 

October quickly fades into November, which leaves the Holiday season fast approaching. Dean and Castiel settle into a comfortable routine of sharing meals, work and orgasms, not necessarily in that order. On their rare days off together the cycle will circle back around and repeat ('work' being the sexy kind on those days). They alternate which bed (couch, living room floor or in one instance kitchen counter) they defile depending on their schedule. Closing shifts tend to be at Dean's due to proximity.

Charlie has assured Dean great strides have been made against Metatron and an arrest is imminent. Dean finds this hard to believe, his reports have been practically cut and paste the entire month.

Dean's reports have been uneventful but that doesn't mean the staff at _Capone's Hideaway_ have been able to kick back and relax. This last week has been exceptionally busy with football season in full swing and the hunting season in the Midwest just starting up. This means more women (and some men) traveling to the city to sight see and have their own hunting season, while their significant others are spending time in the woods.

It seems, according to several inebriated customers, that word has spread regarding the "hotties" that run that "gangster" bar. The first time Dean learned this tid bit of information he nearly choked on his Coke, the truth of that statement going beyond the name of the establishment.

Despite having two extra employees, Dean and Castiel have had very little time together this past week. Today is a rare occasion, they're nearing the end of a short shift, at the same time. The fact that they'll have from 5 o'clock today until 5 o'clock the following day has them both vibrating with excitement. 24 hours to play, however they see fit.

This extra level of excitement could be why Castiel is currently near tears trying to contain his laughter. "You've barely begun the story and you're already rolling in my humiliation....again."

"Oh come now, Dean, surely Cas here would never laugh at another's pain. He doesn't have a mean bone in his body."

"Don't let him fool you, Mick. He talks a good game but behind closed doors -"

"I'll take your word on that one, mate!" the Irishman says on a laugh. "So, you were saying, Cas." He leans against the bar crossing his arms.

"I'm always telling Casanova here," he hooks his thumb in Dean's direction, "his flirting is going to get him into hot water and I was right."

Mick's eyes widen. "Oh boy." He looks over at Dean as Dean shakes his head, trying to conceal his own smile.

"Since the moment our waitress approaches Dean is giving her that... smirk of his. I know you know the one."

"Uh huh, it's the one that brings in the big tips. Let me guess he gave her the, "Well hello, there." He lowers his voice, drops the brogue, cocks his eyebrow and looks sideways up at Cas.

Now the tears spring forward as Cas doubles over. He straightens with a hand on his stomach. "Oooh, he has your number down, Dean."

"You two should try your act out at open mic night down the street, You're hilarious." His voice may be dripping with sarcasm but the truth is he couldn't be happier. Seeing Castiel this happy is worth all the teasing and embarrassing date moments life can throw at him.

"So he gives her that look and immediately she's all flustered; stammering out the specials and giggling."

"Don't exaggerate."

"I'm sure he's not, I've seen that play out plenty of times."

"In Dean's defense, he was just being Dean. Someone who looks like him really has no idea the effect they have on those around them."

Dean snorts and shakes his head again. He wants to ask Castiel if he's ever actually looked in a mirror before but he refrains from interrupting again.

"We continue our conversation, Dean is oblivious to the increased traffic flow of wait staff passing by our table. He nods and smiles at a few, never breaking his flow with me. He holds my hand, as he typically does, which brings forth a few of the male waiters."

"Ok, Cas I think he gets the picture."

"Oh but Dean, I'm painting a picture here! So, Dean gets up to head to the bathroom. As he heads back a waitress 'bumps' into him."

"Whoa, time out, it was an accident. No need to use the air quotes."

"Dean I watched the entire scene unfold before me!" His voice has gone up a few pitches as he denies Dean's protests. "That was no accident! I watched her stand still and as soon as you were close enough she walked to intercept you. Right before your paths crossed she looked down at her pad."

Without warning, Cas bumps into Dean who, instinctively, reaches out to brace Cas's body. He grabs Cas by the forearms as Cas's hands splay out wide on Dean's chest. 

"See where our hands are?" Mick nods around a big grin. "Natural, right? Well her hands did not end like mine. Her's somehow ended up _here,"_ Cas slaps one hand over Dean's left ass cheek, "and _here_ ," the other hand grips at Dean's right hip. 

Now Mick is the one doubling over.

Cas steps away from Dean. "Wait! There's more! So she drops her order pad in the process of groping my boyfriend and Dean being the gentleman he is, bends to pick it up."

"Oh shit." Mick mutters.

"Yup. Dean gives a full display of his Perfect 10, Jean clad ass."

"Cas!" Dean tries to make his tone sound embarrassed, dragging out Cas's name but really he's feeling deeply aroused. He knows Cas well enough. He knows his behavior cues, he knows his body language and he knows what's coming next, he just needs to be patient and he doesn't have to wait long.

Castiel bites his lip, literally holding back laughter and his nose scrunches up in a way that makes Dean's toes curl. Soft little snorts are escaping through his flared nostrils.

"The waitress behind him stops dead in her tracks to take in the view. I can't say I blame her, I'd do the same. Wouldn't have been an issue if the customer behind _her_ hadn't continued to walk forward."

"Uh oh."

Dean holds up a finger, tilts his head to the side and squints his eyes shut in a "wait for it" move.

"Did I mention the waitress was carrying a full tray?"

Dean opens his eyes and points at Cas, as in "aaand there it is."

Castiel's face becomes animated; eyes wide, brows to his hairline. He spreads his hands wide and runs them through the air on either side of his body. "Dean's whole backside, drenched!"

"Oh no!" Mick cries.

"Oh yes." Dean says. "I've had that happen to me twice while waiting tables, both times the tray flipped toward my chest, soaking me. This time, some how, I still ended up wet. Her tray flipped outward."

Mick groans and Cas starts laughing harder. "I stand up to help and out of nowhere, I kid you not, six people rush forward with towels." He holds his arms out, waving them around, "they come from every direction of the restaurant, all so they can "pat" Dean dry."

The door bell chimes as Mick and Cas both catch their breath, grinding at their eyes.

"Looks like they started the party without us, Alicia!"

The arrival of Alicia and Pamela, the two newest employees of Capone's, signals the end of Castiel and Dean's shift.

"Hello, Ladies. Cas was just regaling us with a _refreshing_ tale of a recent night out."

"You mean the night Dean was all but assaulted by a presumptuous waitress?" Alicia snorts.

Pamela shakes her head. "It's women like that that make me ashamed to be a woman."

Dean holds up a hand near his mouth. "Don't be, I didn't mind." 

"And it's comments like that that make me embarrassed to be with a man like him." Cas smirks. "Dean, I need to finish up something in the office then I'll be ready to go."

"Can you grab my jacket out of the break room?"

"Yup. Be back in a flash."

Dean watches him walk away, lost in thought, laughter fading into a soft smile.

"You know you're really good for him."

"What?" Dean turns to Mick, not having any idea what he just said.

Mick smiles at Dean, displaying the space between his front teeth. "When I first started here it took Castiel a good month to warm up to me, it was six months before I managed to work a shadow of a smile from him and I've  _never_ heard him laugh like that before!"

Dean picks up a bar rag and twists it around his hand. "Since you brought it up, this doesn't bother you at all?"

"Why would it bother me?"

"I dunno, you're my boss, Cas and I are supposed to be professional."

"One, I'm not your boss, I'm a co-worker who is elated to see two of his friends find, what appears to be, happiness. Two, the boss may be uptight but he doesn't seem to be concerned with your social life either. In fact, he recently commented sales are at their highest when the two of you work the front together."

"As for being professional," he continues as he unties his apron, "I've seen nothing but professional behavior from either of you."

"Was there a question to the effect?" Castiel appears around the corner, carrying Dean's brown leather jacket, concern furrowing his brow.

"No, not at all." Mick waves his hand at the two lovers, "Get out of here and enjoy your time off together. I know I'm anxious to get home to the warm body waiting for me."

Castiel chuckles, pulling at Dean's hand. "You heard the man, 'warm body', let's go enjoy each other's company."

Dean throws a wave at Mick as he stumbles out the door, propelled by Castiel's tugging.

"Smells like snow," Dean cries as the door closes behind him, his arm grabbing Cas around the waist.

"Dean, I hardly think your nose is able to detect what the weather radars reported wasn't happening until the end of the week."

"I beg to differ. Mark my word, there'll be snow by this evening and you know what that means?" He moves his arm from Cas's waist to around his neck, pulling him close.

"What does that mean?" Cas asks on a sigh, playing along because he's enjoying the way Dean is speaking directly into his ear. Every puff of warm air sending a pulse through his already hard dick.

"It means," he nibbles at Cas's earlobe, "we'll be forced to stay indoors, finding our own way to stay warm."

"I'm sure you've a few extra blankets amongst your few possessions, Dean." He inhales sharply as Dean's hand slides down his back and slips under his waistband, his fingertips pressing into his soft flesh.

"Dean, you need to get that door open!" Castiel growls in the other man's ear.

"I can't, a vampire has latched onto my neck, oh God, I didn't say stop what you're doing!"

He shoves the door open, pulls off his jacket and flings it to the floor in just enough time to catch Castiel's face in his hands as he surges forward.

They're a tangle of lips, tongues and hands as the room fills with the sounds of moans, sighs and soft grunts.

Dean pushes Castiel's jacket off his shoulders and his hands're working on his belt before the jacket has even hit the ground.

"Damn it, why so many clothes, are you trying," Cas groans as Dean pushes past his zipper, palming him through his boxers, "to kill me?" His hips roll against Dean's palm as his hands finally find skin beneath T-shirt and flannel. He flicks over Dean's nipple.

"Bed, now," Dean pants into Cas's open mouth. Cas walks backwards towards the bed, not wanting to miss the show of Dean kicking off his shoes and stripping off both shirts.

Cas falls onto the bed, kicking off his own shoes and removing his shirt as Dean collapses on top of him, both sets of jeans open at the zipper.

"Have I mentioned how much," Cas moves his chin allowing easier access to his neck, "I appreciate your decorating. Having a bed in your living room is so-" he lets out a series of short stucco 'huh huh huhs' sounds as Dean rutts roughly against him.

"You were saying about decorating?" He moves down Cas's body, tongue licking over nipples and trailing to his naval.

"Ahhhh, I don't know, something about a bed in the living roo-ahhh." Teeth sink into the skin surrounding his bellybutton, causing him to grab onto Dean's hair with both hands

"Still too many clothes." Dean slides to the end of the bed, dropping his feet to the floor. He removes first Castiel's and then his own jeans and boxers.

Cas sits up, grabbing at Dean's forearms as he crawls back onto the bed. He flips Dean onto his back and wastes no time slotting their cocks together again.

Dean hisses between his teeth, arching into the friction. "Ahh, there you are, how I've missed you." He stares into the blue abyss of Cas's eyes before capturing his soft lips and sucking at his wet tongue.

Cas's hand fumbles under the pillow beneath Dean's head, retrieving the small plastic bottle conveniently stashed.

He flips open the cap with thumb, mouth still working on Dean's neck. He feels a hand close over his own where it grips the bottle.

"Let me help you, you're taking too long." Dean pulls the bottle from Cas's hand and barely glances down long enough to coat the fingers of his right hand. He snaps the cap back into place and tosses the bottle aside. He spreads his legs wide as he fills his hands with Cas's ass, pulling their bodies closer.

"Hmm you would think it's been awhile."

"It's been a fucking week! Now get your fingers in me before I use my own!"

Dean doesn't hear Cas's teasing retort of "So impatient," the only thing he registers is a long, slender finger sliding home.

"Oh Dean, so tight." He slowly slides out, pulling gently at the ring of muscle before sliding back in.

"Cas! Cas, no foreplay, this is strictly logistics." He pushes down hard onto Cas finger. "Fu-uck. Add another!"

"Dean, I don't thi-"

"Another! Baby I need you. Now! Please!" Oddly enough, Castiel finds his whining a massive turn on. He would like nothing more then to tease him further but it _has_ been an entire week of nothing but light necking and the occasional handjob between shift changes.

Cas adds another finger, sliding and stretching as his tongue rolls Dean's nipple between his teeth.

"I'm good, Cas. I want a reminder of this tomorrow."

Castiel doesn't argue. He applies a generous amount of lube to himself, scraping the excess into Dean's winking hole. He pushes Dean's knees up closer to his chest, lines up and buries himself in one firm stroke.

Dean sharply cries out against the burn. He reaches behind his head, scrambling for purchase, eyes shut, cock steadily leaking onto his stomach.

"Too much, too fast?" Cas asks.

"Burns but feels so fucking good." He opens his eyes and meets Castiel's gaze. He moans when he sees how dark and large Castiel's pupils are. "Do it again, I want to feel all of you."

Castiel starts a rapid fire pace, pulling almost completely out before slamming back in, his grip on Dean's hips leaving, no doubt, ten perfectly oval bruises.

Dean's body complies to the intrusion by opening willingly on the thrust in and clutching to contain the pleasure on the subsequent pull out.

Both men're glistening with sweat, panting the other's name.

Castiel shifts his knees and readjusts his grip on Dean's hips to gain better traction.

Dean quickly becomes overwhelmed with the surge of sensations spreading through him. The burn has been replaced with a perfect balance of slide and friction. His hands roam blindly; grabbing Cas's chest, reaching forward to squeeze his ass or reaching behind to grab a hold of a headboard that doesn't exist.

Cas shifts his hips slightly and let's out a cry to match Dean's when he hits his prostate. Dean reaches down to grab himself.

"No, Dean. No touching." Cas slows, ready to bat his hand away but he returns to his previous pace when Dean follows his order.

Castiel knows Dean's body almost as well as his own. He knows the pull is drawing low in his body.

"Cas, Cas fuck, Cas, ahh." Dean throws his head back and let's out a primal howl, his hands gripping at the sheets. His vision is blocked by white spots and he swears he enters a completely different realm of existence as his cock pulses.

The embers that had started hot with Cas's first touch have now completely burst into an inferno, spreading through Dean's veins like a wild brush fire. He continues to wither under Cas, eyes closed. He isn't aware of Castiel's pace slowing then stuttering as his own orgasm hurdles him into the forrest fire.

It isn't until Dean feels Cas's lips brush over his jaw that he's able to fully return to a conscious state of being.

"There you are," Cas repeats Dean's earlier statement as he stares into Dean's green emeralds. "Not sure where you went, but take me next time you go."

Dean's voice is hoarse when he's finally able to speak. "Wow." He threads his fingers through Castiel's hair and pulls him down into a kiss, hoping to convey his gratitude, satisfaction and love.

Castiel reads him loud and clear. He pulls apart, leaving just enough space to pull in fresh oxygen. "I love you too, Dean."

He lays his head onto Dean's sweaty chest, inhaling his scent deeply through his nose. "Next time I want that."

Dean's eyes pop open and he shoots up to his elbows, his vision swimming momentarily with the sudden movement. "Do you mean what I think you mean? Are you sure, because I'm fine with -"

"Dean," Castiel rests a hand on his boyfriend's chest, gently pushing him back down onto his back, "I want to experience everything with you."

Dean pushes to a seated position, gathering Castiel in his arms. "That's all I ever want." He kisses Cas's head. "On second thought, I'd like to take a shower."

"Don't you want to eat some dinner first?"

Dean scoots to the edge of the bed, reaches back and grabs the small bottle. "Nope," he pushes to his feet, "I'm not done working up an appetite."

Castiel is welcomed under the hot spray of the shower by two strong arms. Dean wraps one arm around Cas's waist, the other hand cups the back of his neck. He pushes him against the tiled wall directly under the shower head, nudging his legs to clear the faucet.

"Insatiable." Cas says, his own member rapidly swelling against Dean's.

"Only for you." Dean swallows down Cas's moan on a kiss.

He takes a step back and rolls Cas to the adjacent wall, pressing his chest to the tile. He works his way down the contours of Cas's back; kissing and licking droplets of water between words. "I want to give you a taste of what's to come the 'next time', as you say."

He sits on the edge of the tub; leaning forward, kissing across his lower back while running his hands lightly over Cas's cheeks. "Why're you so fucking beautiful?" He growls as he spreads his cheeks and runs his flat tongue over Castiel's hole.

Dean's prepared for Castiel as his knees buckle and he cries out. He supports Cas's weight on the heels of his hands until he regains his footing.

"Give a guy a little warning," he says weakly. "Just do that again. Sonofa- ugh."

"No fun in warning. Mmm, Baby you taste fantastic." His tongue returns to lapping and probing in as far as possible, his hands massaging while his thumbs work closer towards the center.

The noises bouncing off the walls spur Dean on to double his ministrations. He removes one hand to reach for the bottle tucked in the corner.

Castiel is pushing against Dean's face, panting into his forearm braced on the wall. He reaches back, grabbing his own cheek to spread himself wider.

"Oh my beautiful, Angel. Look at you all loose for me. Do you like it like this, Babe? Are you imaging what it'll feel like when my hard cock is filling you up?" He slides his index finger in, followed closely by his tongue, the taste of the strawberry lubricant tingling on his tongue.

It's like a switch has been thrown on, Castiel's practically sitting on Dean's face and hand. The chanting of Dean's name makes Dean's impending orgasm come hurdling close to the surface, forcing Dean to grab himself at the base.

He needs both hands so he doesn't have time to deal with his own arousal. His main focus is shooting Castiel straight into the stratospheres. He crooks his finger, searching for...

"Holy Mother Fu- Dean, Dean, again, more, Dean."

Castiel's words have become one long string of incoherent words by the time Dean adds a second finger. His legs are trembling and Dean doesn't think they'll hold him much longer. He stands up, wraps an arm around Castiel's waist in order to support his weight.

"Are you holding out on me, Handsome? Let go and let me hear you scream my name." He works up a rapid pace, hitting his prostate while speaking directly into Castiel's ear. He lowers his voice, "Come for me, Castiel." He waits a beat and adds "Now."

Right on cue, Castiel snaps his head against Dean's chest, grinds down hard onto Dean's fingers, growls Dean's name and paints the tiled wall with long, white strings of come.

Once the tremors subside, Cas slumps his weigh against Dean's chest and thighs. Dean gently pulls out, adjusts the spray of the shower away from Cas's face and wraps his left arm around Cas's chest.

Dean continues talking low in Cas's ear, "Damn, Babe you're so fucking hot, look at my Angel coming untouched." He shifts Cas just enough onto his left thigh, allowing enough room to reach a hand down and grasp his own cock. It only takes a few strokes and Dean is coming across Cas's back. "Can you feel what you've done to me? Ahh, damn Cas."

Cas whimpers slightly as Dean kisses his neck and shoulders. "I got you, Babe. I got you." Cas's hands grip at the arm across his chest, his head dropping forward as his breathing slows.

Castiel takes a few more moments to enjoy the light kisses along his shoulders before standing up on shaky legs. He turns around and captures Dean's face. "Well that was unexpected."

"Was it good for you?" He smirks.

"I think you know the answer to that." He kisses Dean, tongue probing deep into his mouth. "The accommodations are little cramped but after a while I didn't notice anything." He picks up the bar of soap and slowly spins it between his palms.

"Babe," Dean sighs as Cas lathers up his chest, "I think the Hindenburg could have crashed through the ceiling and you wouldn't have noticed." Cas steps out of the spray, allowing Dean to rinse off. "I say we finish here then go to bed."

"Dean it's probably not even 7. Don't you want to eat first?"

Dean is on the verge of replying in the negative when his stomach gives a rumble. "I guess that would be a yes. What're you hungry for?" he asks as he shuts off the water.

"Anything that isn't fried."

They dig through Dean's drawers and pull out clean boxers and jeans. They no longer have separate clothes at each apartment. It's easier to grab whatever's clean.

The jeans Cas is wearing originally belonged to Dean, he loves the way they hang just a little looser on his slim waist.

Cas is pulling a T-shirt over his head and doesn't see Dean approach. He hooks his fingers through his belt loops and tugs their bodies close. "Seeing you in my jeans always makes me want to take them off." His hands move off the loops and onto his prominent hip bones covering each of the fading purple bruises. He inserts a thigh between Cas's legs and kisses his neck.

"Dean."

"Hmm. Busy."

"Dean, how're you still -"

Castiel is interrupted by a loud banging on the door.

Dean's head pops off Cas's neck and the two share a puzzled look. Dean's heart plummets when he hears the tone of his friend's voice through the door.

"Dean! Brother, please tell me you're in there!"

Dean avoids Cas's look and rushes to the door, wrenching it open. "Benny, what a nice surprise. What're you doing here, man?"

Cas can't see the wide eyed look Dean is giving Benny or the frazzled appearance of the detective.

"Uh, I was just passing through, thought I'd stop in to say hi. There's something kind of urgent I need to speak to you about." _Like now_ , he mouths.

"Come in." He opens the door wider and steps aside, allowing Benny to enter. "Cas, this is my friend Benny. Benny, this is Castiel."

The two shake hands, both pretending not to be leary of the other's presence.

"Dean, I hate to drop in but I really need to speak to you."

Dean swallows, "Uh, sure. Cas, Babe," Dean almost winces at the endearment spoken in front of Benny, "why don't you scrounge in the kitchen and see if there's anything decent for a meal. If not, we'll go out."

"Sure, I guess I can do that." He says slowly.

Dean avoids Cas's eyes, "I'm just going to step outside for a minute." He quickly grabs a shirt from his dresser and leads Benny through the sliding glass door that leads out onto a small, cement patio.

"Dean," Benny drawls before the door is completely closed, "you need to answer your fucking phone."

Dean glances into the apartment then pulls the shirt on. "My apologies, I was in the shower. What's going on?"

Benny pulls his hat off his head and scrubs a hand over his widow's peak. "Shit, Dean, I don't even know where to start."

"The beginning would be good, you're starting to freak me out."

"About a week ago we started seeing more of Frank de Marco's men around town and it made us a little nervous. Turns out Metatron cheated him out of a deal a ways back."

"That's a stupid move."

"To say the least. Apparently, de Marco has a guy who works in a pharmaceutical research lab back in New Jersey. He would supply de Marco with drugs still in the testing phase, everything ranging from antibiotics, ED drugs, to Chemotherapy agents."

"Holy shit, aren't there tight restrictions and close eyes kept on that kind of stuff?"

"Normally, yes but this guy was good, for awhile, anyway. Eventually inconsistencies in inventory and test results were being noticed so he had to back off. de Marco was making a large amount of flow from the black market, especially from the Chemotherapy drugs."

"Bastard." Dean thinks about the kind of dire straights a person would be in in order to obtain medication that way.

"I know. So he sought out a new guy, in our area. He struck a deal with Metatron; de Marco would supply the product and Metatron's guys would move it, for a cut of course."

Dean starts to pace. "I can see where this is going."

"Metatron's been charging more than the agreed upon price and de Marco now expects his cut of the profits. Metatron is refusing so he's taken to collecting it in other ways."

Dean stops his pacing and stares wide eyed, waiting.

"Two days ago _The Lucky Strike Bar and Grill_ was ransacked and robbed. Turns out to be one of Metatron's. Yesterday the _One Stop & Go _was hit."

"Isn't that the little convenience store on Birch Avenue? He owns that?"

"No, more like he strong arms the actual owner. Years ago he approached Metatron in need of a green card, which he provided, for a fee. A fee that keeps on returning. According to the the owner he never kept much money in the safe, what little profit not taken by Metaron, is deposited each night."

"I guess that's a good thing."

"You would think but when de Marco's men found little money they decided to torch the place. The owner was out of town but his wife was in their apartment above the store."

"Oh shit." Dean drops to his haunches, he doesn't need to ask if the wife survived, the answer's written on Benny's face. He scrubs his hand over his face, trying to wrap his head around this new information. "So now what?"

"Our main concern is Capone's getting hit. If you haven't been carrying your piece you need to now. I would also think long and hard about a vest on your closing shifts."

Dean leaps to his feet and resumes his pacing. There's only one thought running through his head, _Castiel_. He'll deal with the case but first he needs to make sure Castiel's safe.

"Got it."

"Charlie'll be emailing you every file on de Marco's known crew. We need you to study them and let us know if any show up."

"Got it."

"We'll have a car patrolling the bar and your apartment."

Dean stops his pacing, "I need Castiel and Mick's place watched also."

"Dean, we don't know if either of them are in the clear. For all we know they could be sleeping with the enemy."

"They're clear."

"Dean -"

"I said they're clear," he winces at his raised voice. "They're clear," he says on a quieter tone.

"Ok, Brother. I trust you." Dean winces again at the word trust. The last thing he feels is trustworthy, to anyone. "I'll make sure they're added."

"Thank you." He stands in front of the glass door, watching the back of Cas's head. He's in the kitchen, not moving. He needs to get to him. "Anything I should know?"

"That's all we know for now, you'll be the first I contact when we know more."

The door feels like a one hundred pound weight as Dean slides it open. His feet feel like they're hauling too hundred pounds each, with the load growing with each step towards the front door.

"Stay connected and watch your six, Brother. I'll be in touch."

Dean nods at Benny before closing the door. He takes a few steadying breaths. He knows what he needs to do but he doesn't have the courage to do it.

He turns to find Castiel standing motionless in the middle of the living room, pale and frightened. It reminds Dean of how Cas looked the day they were trapped in the cooler.

He takes two long strides forward and pulls Castiel into a tight embrace. His fingers thread through Cas's hair while his mouth latches firmly onto the softest lips he'll ever touch. He revels in the taste of Castiel's mouth, running his tongue in each corner of the cavern of his mouth, committing it to memory. This may be the last time he's fortunate enough to feel Castiel return his affection and he wants to make it last.

He pulls apart, only because the need to breathe overpowers his need to soak in every detail of this man before him. The man he loves with every fiber of his being.

He holds Cas close, their foreheads locked together. "Dean, you're scaring me."

Cas's trembling voice forces Dean to open his eyes. What he sees makes him want to close them again. His own eyes fill with tears as they look into two blue orbs. "Cas, Baby," his own voice trembling and huskier than Castiel's, "I need to tell you something."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A funny thing happens when you read over your own story, you discover a character twice. Thankfully everyone missed the fact Meg was already a cop. Meg the bartender is now Alicia Banes. Oops.
> 
> Also, there is one homophobic slur near the end, just to warn you.
> 
> One more chapter to go after this gem :-).

"Dean, who was that guy?"

Dean's stomach starts rolling and he takes a step back. "Jesus I think I may be sick," he mutters. "Cas sit with me, I need to tell you something."

Cas sits next to Dean on the couch, never taking his eyes off the other man. Dean closes his eyes briefly and takes a steadying breath before gathering Castiel's hands in a tight grip. 

He stares down at Castiel's long, slender fingers. He'll miss kissing them. "Castiel Novak, I want you to know that I love you." 

 

"Yes, I know that Dean."

"Good. I-I'm glad because I need to tell you something and I want you to re-remember that. I love you and I've always been 100% honest when it came to my feelings for you and how important you are to me." He inhales sharply, letting it out on a shaky breath.

Now or never he tells himself and looks directly into Castiel's eyes. "Cas, my name isn't Dean Campbell." 

He holds Cas's gaze, watching as it glosses over in confusion. "I'm a police officer, working undercover." Dean waits. Waits for Cas to process, waits for questions, waits for his world to collapse in on itself.

"I was assigned to work a case and, in the process, I found something much more profound then any collar."

"I don't understand." Castiel says but Dean knows differently. He knows he understands because his lover's thumbs are no longer rubbing soothing circles around Dean's knuckles. His back has straightened a tad taller and his eyes are staring at the half wall behind Dean. The most devastating detail is the glimmer has faded from Castiel's eye.

He brings his eyes down to their conjoined hands. Dean watches him blink once then pull his hands out of Dean's grasp. He may as well have punched Dean in the gut, the end result would've been the same.

"Lies." He says quietly.

"No, Cas. Please, Baby, only-"

"Only what, Dean? _Who_ you are? Why you're  _really_ here?" He stands up, his legs trembling, his hands balled into fists at his side.

"I'm here for-"

"Dean, I don't care about your case. I care that you lied to me. I care that-" he looks away as his voice cracks. When he looks back, Dean's heart shatters. His eyes are full of unshed tears, he bites his lip and swallows down a sob before continuing. "I care that I opened my fucking heart to you and you filled it with lies." 

"Cas, no! Everything with you, with _us_ , was real. Please let me -" He tries to take ahold of Cas's hand and he pulls away. Cas's words are painful enough but the fact he hasn't raised his voice above a harsh whisper the entire time tells Dean how deeply he's hurt the man he loves.

"Don't touch me!" He snaps. "Why'd you even tell me? Why didn't you just go on your merry way and forget about me?"

A sob escapes Dean. "Cas I could never -" he can't even finish because the thought of forgetting about Castiel isn't something he could ever do, under any circumstance. "Cas listen, there're some dangerous men after Metatron, you have to -" 

"The only thing I _have_ to do, Dean Whoever you are, is get the hell away from you." He grabs his keys and wallet from the kitchen counter and is out the door before Dean is able to reach him. 

"Castiel, please, it isn't safe!" He runs after Cas but the man carrying Dean's heart has already started his car and is currently pulling away.

Dean drops to his knees at the curb, head in hands, and sobs. 

He pays no attention to the wet grass underneath him seeping into his jeans or the big fat snowflakes that have started to fall, coating his hair and back. Turns out, Dean was right about his snow predection afterall.

 @@@@@

Soft bed and warm blankets are the two things Dean notices as consciousness takes over his fuzzy brain. 

"Dean?" A voice, muted at first. He pries open his eyes, they feel puffy and they hurt. 

"Sam?" He pushes the blanket off his shoulder and starts to sit up. "Wha-?" And then it hits him. His repetitive nightmare of the last seven weeks had played out in reality. The memory of Castiel's back fleeing, leaving Dean alone.

He drops back onto the bed, throwing an arm over his face. Maybe he's still stuck in a nightmare, maybe he'll wake up and find Castiel sleeping under his arm, where he belongs. 

"Sam," his voice croaks, "Sam I lost him." Dean sits up completely, throwing the blanket aside. "I have to talk to him, I have to explain, he needs to understand the danger out there."

"Dean, what you need to do is sit down."

"Benny," Dean snaps, "it isn't safe. He left," his voice breaks, seeing Cas's taillights again behind his eyelids, "he left before I could explain he may be in danger." 

Sam presses down onto his brother's shoulder. "Sit Dean. You could've died of hypothermia out there."

"Dean," Benny sits beside his friend on the bed, "we have a car watching Castiel's place. In fact it was the officer on patrol that let me know he'd arrived home in an agitated state. I came by to check on you and I found you practically unconscious in the snow."

"So you called Sam." 

He nods his head once. "So I called Sam, I knew he'd want to be here." 

Dean looks down at his dry clothing. "So which one of you lucky bastards had the pleasure of undressing me and tucking me into bed?"

Benny slaps his shoulder before moving to the couch. "I did and no offense, but I've had better."

Dean's head drops into his hands. "Sammy, what am I gonna do? I lost him."

Sam wraps an arm around his big brother's shoulder and pulls him close. "No you didn't. You're going to give him space. I don't know exactly what you told him but he needs time to process. Give it some time, he's a reasonable man, he'll come around."

"In the meantime, Dean, you have a job to do," Benny reminds him. 

Dean nods his head and removes his hand. "Right." He says firmly. He stands and grabs his laptop from his kitchen table. "You said Charlie was sending me the files. I'm going to study these then go to work. I'm going to do whatever's in my power to bring this fucker down."

"Glad to hear it, Officer Winchester." Benny stands. "Then I'm going to let you be. I'm a phone call away if you need me."

Dean follows him to the door. "Um, thanks for, you know." He gestures behind Benny, towards the front lawn.

"I have no doubt you would've done the same for me." 

"I don't know if I feel right leaving you alone, Dean."

"It's fine, Sam. I'm...not fine but I deserve this. I should've kept my distance and concentrated on the job."

"Dean, you can't control when or with whom you fall in love with."

"I've made my bed, Sammy. Anyway, thank you for coming by, really, I appreciate it. Now go on," he points his finger at the open door, "you have a family waiting for you."

"You're my family." He pulls Dean into a hug, allowing his brother to pull away when he's ready.

"Thanks. I'll call you later. Kiss Leen and Mal for me."

 

Dean leans against the closed door, staring at the open closet in front of him. He runs his hand over the soft red leather of Castiel's jacket. Either Sam or Benny must've hung their coats up, the last he recalls is them being flung onto the floor but that was _before_. Before Dean took it all away.

He pushes away the image that appears. Handsome Cas standing before him the day of their picnic; sunglasses on, the sun shining behind him, this very jacket hanging from his finger over his shoulder.

He closes the door firmly and opens his laptop.

Dean shifts through the files at a steady pace. He reads each profile and arrest record. Studying each picture, committing them to memory.

He takes a break around midnight to eat a cold slice of pizza while standing at the kitchen sink, washing it down with a beer. Returning to the grind as soon as his body's some what nourished. 

He reads old newspaper articles online regarding Frank de Marco and Marvin "Metatron" Armstrong until his eyes will no longer stay open. 

Reluctantly, Dean collapses onto the couch, he can't bring himself to lay in his bed. He'll be surrounded by Castiel's scent and he's done enough crying for now. He drops off into nightmare filled sleep. 

The clock flips to three and Dean startles awake, the images of Castiel being caught in the crossfire of a police shootout remaining all too fresh. 

He wants desperately to call Cas. Four times he types out a text and deletes it. 

Out of desperation, he gets up, throws on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt and steps out for a run. Dean's always loathed running, there was a _lot_ of running at the academy.

The routine of getting up early and paving out a few miles has gotten easier over the years. He still dislikes it but the benefits out weigh the irritating aspects.

Working until past bar time many nights has made getting up early and lacing up his shoes very undesirable and he's feeling the effect of his inactivity.

The burn in his lungs and the ache in his calves is a welcome relief to the pain of the elephant that's taken up residence on his chest since Benny first banged on his door. 

The unmarked patrol car laps Dean a second time. Knowing he's there allows Dean to shut out everything else around him. He concentrates on the slap of his feet on the pavement and not the constant loop of Cas whispering _Liar_. 

He needs a plan of action. He knows he can't sit home and wallow. Sam's right, Cas needs his space and Dean fully intends to give it to him. He also knows he'll never give up fighting to get Castiel back into his arms.  

Eventually, he finds himself back on his doorstep. He showers as quickly as he can, ignoring the taunting memory of the echo of Castiel's voice bouncing off the tiled walls.

After his shower, he forces himself to eat a decent breakfast. He contemplates heading down to the station to debrief with Charlie in person because, even at this ungodly hour, he knows she'll be there. In the end, he decides to do it by phone. He can only imagine the rumors and judgement swirling between those walls. After all, he ignored Benny's warning at the start of the case by breaking the number one rule: never get personally involved.

His shift isn't scheduled to start until five but by noon time Dean decides to go in early. There's always something to do to keep busy and sitting alone in his fake apartment is the last place Dean wants to be. 

Before he leaves he needs to make a phone call.  It's no surprise to Dean when he's greeted by voicemail.

"Hi Cas." His voice comes out deeper and gruffer then he expected and he clears his throat. "I, uh know you don't want to talk to me and that's understandable. Please, just listen to me. Metatron's made some very dangerous enemies and they've been hitting up many of his properties. There've been casualties. Please, please Baby, be careful.

I hope you're able to give me a chance to talk about all this, soon. I'm sure you have questions and I know you're angry, God knows I've given you enough reasons be angry at me.  On the other hand I know, at least I hope, I've shown you more reasons how much I love you. You're  _it_ for me Cas. I'll never give up fighting for you. I can't lose you, Baby." His voice breaks and he takes a second to get his emotions under control. "I'm so sorry," he whispers before hanging up.

Dean drops his phone and covers his face, breathing through the tears threatening to fall. "No," he tells the empty room, "I have work to do."

He straps his small sidearm to his ankle and leaves for work, nodding to the officer driving by.

Most of the snow from the day before has melted, leaving behind a cold, wet, dreary day; reflecting back exactly how Dean feels.

 

"Hey, Deano. You're a tad early. And alone. Trouble in paradise?" Alicia calls from across the room. She's just finishing up the opening routine, preparing for the lunch crowd. 

Dean plasters on a fake smile, "Nah, it's all good, I wore Cas out and he begged me to let him catch up on his beauty rest. Thought I'd come in early and make myself useful."

"If you say so, stud." Alicia shakes her head as she flips the last chair onto the floor.

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Campbell." Dean stutter steps in front of Ketch's office, startled by his presence.

"Hello, Sir."

"Dean, there is no need for such formalities. Please, Ketch is fine."

"Oh, uh right, ok," he stammers.

"Mr. Campbell, may I have a word?"

"Listen, I know I'm not on the schedule until five, I can leave if the extra hours aren't in the budget." He gestures at the paperwork in front of his "boss".

"What?" Ketch glances down at the spreadsheets. "Oh, no it's fine. Please, have a seat."

He sits down, nerves starting to jump a little. Ketch's proper English accent and suit makes him feel like he's being reprimanded by the principal. 

"Mr. Campbell,-" 

"Dean, please. I feel like you're speaking to my father"  _grandfather, actually_  he thinks "anytime you address me as Mr. Campbell."

"My apologies." He rests a hand over his chest. "Dean, I wanted to discuss something with you. I've taken notice of how dedicated you are to your work. In this day and age it is very difficult to find employees with work ethics such as yourself." 

"Oh I wouldn't say I'm anymore special then Mick or Cas, si- Ketch."

Ketch stands to remove his suit jacket. "I agree with you whole heartedly, Dean. Both Mr. Davies and Mr. Novak have been invaluable to this team." He sits back down and takes a sip of his tea. "Tell me, Dean, are you familiar with the _Lucky Strike bar & grill_?"

Dean tenses at the name. "Yes."

"We recently had a few staff members end their employment which leaves us in a bit of a pickle."

Yeah, I'm sure the recent robbery has nothing to do with that problem, Dean thinks to himself.

"One of the open positions is that of the staff manager. It's yours if you are interested."

Oh hell no, he thinks. Out loud he says, "Oh wow, really? Thank you but is it ok if I think about it?"

Ketch gives Dean that smile that never reaches his eyes, it always makes the hair on his arms stand on end. "Of course, Mr. Campbell. I would, however, implore you to not wait too long, we wouldn't want to keep Mr. Metatron waiting."

Dean's eyes widen a little. "No, Sir, I'll get back to you soon." He stands quickly, "Thank you for thinking of me." 

Dean's bowlegs can't carry him out of that office fast enough. He has enough on his plate to worry about all that, he thinks to himself as he steps into the kitchen.

 

Dean wastes away the next five hours stocking the kitchen, filling out the inventory report, cooking the few food orders that trickle in and covering Pamela's breaks behind the bar.

He's neck deep in the oven scrubbing away, what appears to be, years of grime when he hears his voice. He pauses mid scrub, waits a beat and continues scrubbing. He follows the sound of his all too familiar gait, notices the ever slight stutter of his steps as he passes the kitchen. 

He finishes the oven, washes his hands and leaves the kitchen. Dean finds Castiel standing at the cooler, hand on the handle, knuckles white.

"I finished the inventory, I gave the report to Ketch." He winces at the way Cas jumps but doesn't turn around.

"I, uh, didn't want you to have to go in there." He says quietly. He waits a moment then turns to leave. He hears a faint "Thank you," right before rounding the corner.

When there aren't any food orders, Dean helps Pamela cover the front and Castiel stays in Ketch's office. Dean doesn't have a clue as to what he's working on but he doesn't blame the guy. 

Dean's grateful Pamela waits until the end of her shift to comment on the distance between them. Even then, all she asks is if they'll be ok alone. To which Dean replies they'll be fine. He just wishes he felt half as confident as he makes his voice sound.

Dean's also been paying close attention to each customer. He recognizes a few officers but not any of de Marco's crew.

 

By 9 o'clock there're only two people at the bar when Castiel makes his first appearance. Dean tries to avoid eye contact as long as he can. He doesn't want Cas to feel pressure to acknowledge him. 

When he finally glances at Cas he only gets a look at his profile and yet it still makes him gasp out loud. He quickly looks away when the noise startles Cas but not before seeing the dark circles under his eyes and the red rims of his lids.

When Cas's back is turned to him he hesitantly says "Hey Cas?" 

Dean doesn't think he'll answer and is surprised when he says "Yeah?"

"It looks like it may be a slow night, if you want to, you know, leave, I think I'll be ok." He holds his breath, waiting. He watches Castiel's back, the way his blades come together as he straightens his shoulders.

He turns his head to the side, just enough for Dean to see the tip of his nose and right eye. He's looking down at the floor when he answers, "No I think I'll stay for a while." 

Dean lets out the breath he's holding, a small tingle of hope pushing it's way up his spine.

"Can I freshen up those drinks, Ladies?" Dean forces a grin for the two remaining customers.

"No, I think we're ready to call it a night."

They each drop a few bills on the counter before leaving. Dean clears away their glasses and washes them in the soapy water.

"Dean?" Now it's Dean's turn to jump. 

"Yeah?" He slowly picks up a towel and dries his hands, not turning to look at the other man.

"Can I ask you a question?" 

Now Dean turns around and looks Cas straight in the eye. "Anything." He tells him firmly.

Cas bites at his bottom lip before asking. "What's your last name?" 

"Winchester." Dean's voice is clear but inside he's shaking worse then a teenager copping his first feel. He also hopes Metatron's goons aren't able to read lips in case they watch the surveillance video.

"Huh." He nods his head once then bites his lip again. "I won't," he clears his throat, "I won't say anything to anyone about..."

Dean takes one step towards the other man. "Cas, that never once crossed my mind. But thank you," he adds.

"How do you know.." he starts.

"Know what? I mean it when I say ask my anything. Please."

"How do you know I don't work for Metaron and whatever it is he does?"

"I just do. I'll tell you what I told my boss when he asked me the same thing. You're just like me, doing your best at your job so at the end of day you'll make it home to your loved ones."

"You told your boss that?"

"Well yeah, it's true. I hope. I mean," he rushes to add, "the part about the ones you love."

Castiel chooses not to comment instead he asks, "Why Campbell?"

"Campbell was my Mother's maiden name. My handler thought it'd be best to stick to something close to the truth since this was my first case and there was a lesser chance of me slipping."

"Was anything you told me about your family true?" 

"All except one thing." Cas looks up, waiting. His expression is completely unreadable, even to Dean. "My brother, his family and I all live in Frankfort. My father still lives in Kansas."

"So that day I was sick..."

"I was standing in my brother's living room when I called you. It was actually my nephew that convinced me to come back to be with you. Not that I really needed much convincing."

"They really know about me?"

"Absolutely, I wasn't lying when I said they're anxious to meet you. Eileen really did invite you to go trick or treating. She would've made you your own Power Ranger costume."

"What else?" He takes a step closer to Dean, hand resting on the bar less then a foot away from where Dean's rests.

Dean racks his brain trying to think. "Baby's in Sam and Eileen's garage, not with Bobby. When I was visiting I couldn't even take her for a drive because I kept looking the empty seat beside me, wishing you were there." He pauses, "Um, well the scar on my chin."

"Wasn't a cut by a bottle?"

"No, it was, I wasn't tending bar at the time. I was in uniform and my partner and I'd been called in to break up the fight." His fingers twitch, wanting to close the gap and grab Cas's hand.

"Is that Benny guy your partner?"

"No, more like my backup." He thinks about telling him there's someone else working the case but he decides that isn't his place, especially since he doesn't know who that someone is.

"Cas, I'm so sor-" 

"Don't, Dean. I can't-"

Dean holds up his hands, "Ok."

"Why'd you tell me?"

"I'm scared for your safety. I want to tell you everything but not here. What I can tell you is that your boss has pissed off the wrong mobster from across state lines and he's looking for payback."

" _The Lucky Strike_." He says, the color draining from his face.

"You heard about that?"

He nods his head slightly.

"Yes, that was him." 

"Cas I-" Dean's cut off by the door opening. A man wearing a suit and a long, black leather coat walks in. He takes a seat at the bar. 

Dean recognizes him right away. His body tenses. The gun he'd moved from his ankle to the small of his back gives him little comfort.

Castiel notices the way Dean's body language changes and instinctively steps behind Dean.

"What's your poison?" Dean asks Julian Jerome. He drops a cocktail napkin down in front of de Marco's enforcer.

He looks up at Dean and studies his face.

Dean does his best to keep his face neutral and patient. Just a barkeep waiting on a customer to decide.

"I'll take a gin and tonic, hold the lime."

Dean wraps his knuckles on the bar. "Coming right up," he says cheerfully. 

He does his best to block Castiel with his body, make the drink and keep an eye on the guy all at once. 

"Can I get you some pretzels?" Cas asks.

Jerome opens his mouth to speak when the door opens again.

A bit more tension loosens in Dean's chest when Benny and Donna come strolling in. He knows if they're in here, there's more backup outside.

Benny's arm is tight around Donna's shoulders. Donna is giggling as Benny buries his face in her neck, disappearing behind her thick blonde hair. "Hey, Babe, we got the whole place to ourselves," he cries when his head emerges again. His Bayou drawl is gone and Dean's impressed with his Midwest accent. 

Donna let's out a high pitched squeal as Benny tickles her side, guiding her down onto a stool near the door, opposite side of Jerome. 

Castiel grins and Dean knows it's forced by the way it never touches his eyes. "Looks like you two may be in need of a room, not a drink," he jokes as he drops down two napkins. "What can I get you?"

"I'll take a seven and seven, little ice. 

Cas turns to Donna. "A friend told me there was a blue eyed dreamboat who works here that makes a mean Cosmo." She hoists her body up, leans over the bar, and studies Cas's face, gum smacking. "She _had_ to have been talking about you! Woo whee, those baby blues are killers!" 

"Whoa, down girl!" Benny cries. He tugs Donna back onto her stool with a thud. "I don't know if I have it in me to compete with him."

Dean glances back at Jerome. He's watching them all, seemingly, uninterested but the three with the badges know differently. 

"No worries, man," Dean says to Benny. "She isn't his type."

"What, you don't like blondes?" She asks, dimples winking along with her eye.

"Yeah, something like that," Cas says with a chuckle that's close to genuine.

Cas makes the drinks and Dean delivers a basket of pretzels to Jerome. "I've never seen you around these parts." Dean is struck with the realization he just uttered the same phrase Mick asked him his first night here. "Just passing through?"

"Yup." He replies, not looking at Dean. He drains his glass, stands up and throws a couple of bills onto the bar.

"Get you another?" Dean asks.

"Nope." He replies then walks out.

"Have a good evening," he calls to his back.

The four audibly exhale as the door closes.

Donna digs a phone out of her pink sequence purse. "He's on the move." She drops her phone back into her purse and takes a sip of the Cosmo.

"Well, my green eyed friend was right, Castiel." Her bravado is gone and the gum is no longer snapping but she remains under Benny's arm for the sake of the cameras.

"Cas, you ok?" Dean takes a few steps towards Cas, hand held out. 

"Who was that guy? I've never seen him before."

Dean closes the gap between them and wraps an arm around Cas's waist, pulling him in close. "Shh, cameras" He whispers when the other man tenses. He allows Dean to move close to his ear, even manages to fake a smile.

Benny and Donna watch the smile fade as Dean fills Cas in on the details surrounding the _Lucky Strike_ and the _One Stop & Go_. The two look like lovers speaking sweet nothings into each other's ears as Cas asks questions and Dean answers.

While they speak, Dean's hand has moved to his neck, his thumb rubbing side to side through his hairline. 

"What do you say we check out the Jukebox, cher?" The drawl is back in Benny's voice as he watches Dean and Cas.

"You betcha," Donna says "lead the way, LaFitte." She offers Benny her hand and they leave the two lovers alone.

"I know this's a lot to take in, Bay- uh, Cas. Is there anything I can do to make it easier?"

Castiel looks into Dean's eyes, really looks not just glances, for the first time since the previous day, blue darting back and forth between green. "Dean." He closes his eyes, leaning against Dean, just a little. He inhales deeply through his nose, sending a shiver through his body.

"What can I do to make this.. _us.._ right?" Dean whispers, his eyes filling with tears against his will.

Cas opens his eyes and they're glistening as well. "I've missed you," He whispers back.

Dean tightens the hand at Cas's neck while the other cups his face. "Cas I-" Dean presses his lips gently to Cas's, just long enough for a painful reminder of what he has to lose.  

"I think I should go home." 

Dean steps back, giving Cas some space. "Benny?" He asks without taking his eyes off Cas.

"There's a car waiting to follow you home, Castiel." He tells him as he leans against the Jukebox.

"Please, stay safe. Call if anything feels off to you."

Castiel takes a hold of Dean's hand as it dangles at his side, squeezes it briefly then drops it. "You stay safe as well, Dean." He disappears around the corner and returns a moment later with his coat. "Thanks for bringing this in."  

Dean nods, unable to speak. He watches Cas walk to the door, stop with his hand on the knob, he pauses halfway through the door, looking out onto the street, "I love you, Dean."

Dean's knees buckle as the door closes firmly behind Cas. He leans on the bar, the edge digging into his back, willing air into his lungs. "Enough with the fucking crying." He tells himself. 

"If it makes you feel any better, all I saw was a man very much in love. Scared but in love and not going anywhere," Benny tells him as he returns to his seat on the bar stool. 

Donna moves her stool closer to Dean. She lays a hand on his back and rubs light circles. 

"How did I manage to fuck this up so badly? You warned me Benny but I-"

"But the heart wants what it wants and it pays no attention to logic." Donna tells him. "Might as well consider yourself fortunate you found each other."

Dean pushes off the bar with a grateful look towards Donna. "What was that all about? Do you think he was here to hit the place up?"

Benny shakes his head as Donna sits beside him again. "From what we could tell he was alone but we didn't want to risk it. Seems like he was casing the place out. Might not be a bad idea to close up early tonight, Brother."

 

@@@@@

Thursday

1:30am **Castiel: Goodnight, Dean.**

2:45am **Dean: Goodnight, my Angel.**

Thursday

6:45am **Dean: are you up?**

**Castiel: Dean, it's not even 7, we just got to bed.**

**Castiel: And yes, I've been up since 5:30. Why're you up? Bad dream?**

Dean knows Cas is only teasing him but he answers honestly.

**Dean: yes**

He jumps when the phone rings in his hand.

"Good morning, Castiel."

"You want to tell me about it?" Cas's voice is still thick with sleep and it smooths Dean's nerves like aloe on a burn.

"No, not really. It's a reoccurring thing and some of it's played out recently." He clears his throat, wanting to change the subject. "I was thinking of going for a run."

"You run...like for fun?"

Dean laughs softly, "No definitely not for fun. Keeps me in shape and it helps me think when I... have shit to deal with," he finishes, feeling lame.

There's a long pause and Dean pulls his phone from his ear thinking he may've lost his signal. Nope, full bars. 

"I run on occasion," Cas is saying as he brings the phone back to his ear.

Dean sits up in bed. "I was going to run through Grant Park, start at the fountain in 15 minutes. If you know, you want to, whatever."

"We'll see, maybe I will want to, you know whatever." Dean hopes that's a smile he hears running through his voice.

"Ok, well I'm going to get ready. I'll see you when I see you." 

"Goodbye, Dean."

 

Fifteen minutes later, Dean's bent at the waist, stretching his lower back, when a shadow falls over him. He straightens his body slowly, eyes taking in the way Cas's light cotton pants hug his defined thighs and stretch across his hips. His long sleeved t-shirt does nothing to hide his firm biceps. Cas's wearing his sunglasses and a small smile.

"See something you like, Sir?"

Dean smirks. "Nah, I have a boyfriend who's much hotter." 

Relief washes over Dean when Cas replies. "Probably not as hot as mine. He wears a uniform."

"Hmm, I bet your boyfriend would like to kiss you."

Cas pauses. "I'd be open to that."

Dean steps closer, placing his hands loosely on Cas's hips. He doesn't lean in right away, he first takes a moment to look at every line of Cas's face. Once satisfied, for now anyway, he lifts his hand to brush away the hair off of Cas's forehead. He steadies the slight tremble by pushing his fingers through his messy locks to the back of his head. He pulls Castiel towards him until their lips meet. They remain joined together for several seconds, lips sealed. 

Castiel is the first to purse his lips, kissing once twice, on the third time they pull apart, both sighing quietly.

"Don't stop on my account, you two're very hot together."

The two men turn towards the third voice. A woman in her sixties, Dean guesses, is sitting on the bench (their bench to be more specific) with a steaming cup of coffee and a large grin on her face.

Cas laughs."Guess we should actually run, huh Campbell?" He winces, I mean Winchester?"

Dean takes Cas's hand. "Babe you call me whatever makes you comfortable. As long as you talk to me, I don't care."

"Dean-"

"Let's run," he cuts him off. "Have a good day, Ma'am." He gives the woman on the bench a wave.

"Off to a good start already," she tells the two cheerfully as they take off at a steady, in sync, pace.

 

One hour later the two arrive back at their bench. They're both out of breath but happy. Running will often have that affect, so will a brief make out session with your boyfriend. (They had come upon their picnic area and couldn't pass it by!)

"I'm going to go shower," Cas says, pulling his shirt away from his chest.

"You know, they say conserving water's good for the environment, we could shower together."

"I'll see you later, Dean." Cas says sternly.

"Spoilsport," Dean pouts.

"And yet you love me anyway," he grins.

Dean grabs the front of Cas's damp shirt and slams their chests together, kissing him roughly. He pays no attention to where they are as he pushes his tongue past the seal of Cas's dry lips. Moaning loudly as he tastes _Castiel_. Pulling back he repeats Cas's statement. "See you later."

Cas shakes his head as they part ways. "Insatiable," he mumbles.

"I heard that!" Dean calls over his shoulder. "And only for you," he says to himself.

"Heard _that,_ " Cas calls. 

Dean smiles to himself. They're are going to be fine, he thinks.

 

On the way home Dean stops at the grocery store. He throws together a few things in his kitchen and showers quickly. Hoping he isn't pushing Cas too hard, he buzzes his outer door, juggling the bags he brought from home.

"Dean!" Cas's surprised to see Dean but he appears happy.

"I brought you lunch," he holds up the bags dangling from his fingers.

"I suppose you're included in that lunch?" Cas deadpans.

Dean's shoulders slump slightly. "Uh, no I can leave it here. I just want to make sure you eat a decent meal."

Cas's face splits into a grin. "I'm fucking with you, get that sweet ass of yours in here!"

"Not funny, man." Dean pauses as he walks through the door to kiss Cas.

Dean sets the bags on the Breakfast bar and begins lining the contents up for Cas's inspection. He pauses. "You have a grill, right?"

Cas nods as he opens a container of potato salad. "Mmm that smells good. You make this? Yes I have a grill, it's small and practically brand new."

"Good, I brought burgers and marinated chicken breasts, since you aren't the biggest fan of red meat. And yes I made the salad."

"You take good care of me," Cas says quietly as he looks over the spread on his counter.

"No Cas, I don't, but I will," he says roughly, pulling Cas into a hug. One arm draping over his shoulder, the other wrapping around his rib cage. "Watching you walk away, I can't ever do that again. Cas, I can't lose -" he sobs into Cas's neck. "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Shh, shh," Cas cups the back of Dean's head, scratching at the short hairs. "Dean, it's okay."

He shakes his head. "No it's not."

"Dean." Cas says sternly, moving his hand to cup his face. He forces his face up and looks him in the eyes. "I forgive you. I shouldn't have left you like that. I was just," he sighs, "I was shocked and I couldn't process it." 

Dean slumps against Castiel, burying his face in his neck again. 

"I understand the difficult position you were in. I want to thank you for trusting me with the truth."

Despite himself, Dean snorts at the irony of that statement.

Cas hugs him tight and kisses Dean's temple. "Now go make me some lunch." 

Dean lets out a loud laugh and wipes at his eyes. "Yes sir!"

"What's this?" Cas cries, looking at the counter again. 

"I made you a pie." Dean grins, clearly proud of himself.

"Let me get that oven heated up!"

 

With the smell of peach pie baking, Dean and Castiel enjoy a quiet lunch together. Much of it's eaten one handed since their hands seem to be magnets and won't come apart.

 

"I forgot ice cream!" Dean slaps his forehead as Cas slices into the warm pie.

He drops his mouth open and sets down the knife. "Well I can't eat this now. Clearly it's junk!" He laughs when Dean hip bumps him and picks the knife back up. "I think we'll survive."

 

"We have," Dean looks at his watch, "six hours before we have to be to work." He tells Cas as he loads their dishes into the dishwasher. "I brought a few movies unless you want to go out somewhere."

"No I'd rather stay here with you. What'd you bring?"

He holds up a finger. "Let me run out to my car. 

"Planning on getting lucky, Winchester?" Cas teases when he sees Dean's duffle bag.

Dean blushes, making his freckles pop. "No, I just didn't feel like putting on my work clothes after my post run shower."

"Uh huh, if you say so. What'd you bring?" he asks again. 

Dean holds up a stack of DVD cases. "Star wars, James Bond and Season one of Star Trek Enterprise." 

"You had all those at your apartment?"

"There're even more at the apartment. I didn't know how often I would make it home. I didn't expect to find a better alternative to spending my time alone than watching movies. So what's it gonna be, hot stuff? 007 or Han Solo?" 

"Depends on the Bond."

"You sure you want to start that? It could get brutal if we disagree."

Cas stares Dean down, waiting.

"Depends on what you're in the mood for, if you ask me. You want a smooth talking, class act then we pick Connery. If you want a good looking, smart ass we pick Brosnan." He sets the cases down and gathers Cas in his arms, slotting his thigh between his legs. "But," he kisses his way up Cas's neck, pulling his earlobe between his teeth, "if you want a bad ass mother fucker who kicks some serious ass then we pick Daniel Craig." He rolls his groin against Cas's hip bone and latches his mouth onto his neck.

Cas lets out a soft moan and rolls onto Dean's thigh. "What if I prefer a green eyed Bond with sexy as hell bowlegs? Mmm, do that again, Dean."

Dean kisses along Cas's jaw until he reaches his other earlobe. "Well if that's what you're looking for then we should go with Han Solo." He smirks as he grabs the top case and walks into the living , leaving Cas trembling with arousal. "Did you just compare yourself to Harrison Ford, because you don't look anything like him." 

"No, I'm hotter." He states as he pops the disc into Cas's laptop.

Castiel agrees completely but he isn't going to stroke Dean's ego anymore.

"You never said who your favorite Bond is," he states as he drops down onto the couch.

"Oh, Sean Connery, of course, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy the others." 

"Yeah, I can throw my weight behind that argument as well," Cas responds as Dean sits on the opposite end of the couch. They stretch out, legs tangled together.

Halfway through the movie, Dean absentmindedly begins to rub at Castiel's feet and calves, happy to be spending time with him. 

His hands are left hanging in the air when Cas pulls his legs off the couch, swinging them around to the other side, he drops his body down on top of Dean.

"Well, hello there," Dean purrs.

Cas smiles, touching their noses together. "You looked cold, thought you might want a blanket."

"In that case," he slips his hands down the back of Cas's running pants and grabs his bare ass, pulling him close, "brr, I'm very cold." He pushes up with his hips. "Maybe a little friction will start us a warm fire."

Castiel lets out a snarl as he captures Dean's mouth, sucking his tongue into his mouth. Their cocks grind together as their hands roam squeezing and caressing.

"We can move to the bedroom." Cas pants as their hips find a perfect rhythm.

"N-no, keep doing this. Don't wa-want to, ugh God, wait. Damn. Why do I find this so fucking hot?"

"I don't know but I like that I can still do this." He rucks up Dean's shirt and bites at his nipple. 

Dean cries out, grabbing ahold of Cas's hair. "Cas if you do that again I'm g- yeaaaaah." 

Cas groans as Dean pulls harder on his hair and the cloth between them grows wet with Dean's pulsing cock. Castiel adds to the mess as his own orgasm overcomes him.

He slows his pace then lays his head onto Dean's bare chest, breathing heavy. 

"That was unexpected." Dean chuckles, leaning down to kiss the top of Cas's hair, smoothing down the tangle he created with his fingers.

"I honestly don't know what came over me." He kisses at the purple marks over each of Dean's pectoral muscles. "I had this urge to mount you like a fucking wolf and place my mark on you."

Dean wiggles his hips that are pinned under his boyfriend's chest. He scrunches his nose at the rapidly drying mess in his pants but doesn't even think about asking Cas to move. Instead he wraps his arms around Cas's shoulders and squeezes. "You can mark me any fucking time you want to, Angel. I'm yours for life."

"Hey Dean?" He's tracing the freckles peppered along Dean's skin with his fingertip.

"What made you start calling me Angel?"

Dean brings his head down to look at Cas. "Why, does it bother you? I know I tend to use a lot of endearments. Is it emasculating to be called Babe or Baby?"

"No!" He cries, "I actually really love it. I was just wondering about angel. It's where my name originated from."

"Angel of Thursday, I know." When Cas lifts his head, eyebrows raised, he continues, "I looked it up after out first day working together. I was curious." 

He lays his head back onto Dean's chest. "I want to stay here, right here with you always."

"Good, then we're in agreement," he mumbles as his eyes drift closed.

 

_Castiel is walking away, shoulders tense as Dean's voice grows hoarse from yelling his name._

_"Come back! I'm so sorry!"_

_He watches in horror as Castiel's body jerks first to the right then the left as the bullets pierce his chest. Right before he crumples to the ground, Dean jerks awake._

"Shit, I'm sorry," he tells blue eyes staring down at him. He drops back down onto the couch.

"Don't be," he wipes at the sweat beaded on Dean's forehead with his fingertips. "Same one?"

Dean nods his head.

"Tell me about it."

Dean sighs. "All I see is your back as you walk, sometimes run, away. As I call your name you're-" 

"Shot?" Castiel supplies when it seems Dean's unable to continue.

He moans. "Yes, sometimes. Shot, stabbed, beat with a crowbar. It varies depending how stressed I am before I fall asleep."

"When did the nightmares start?"

"As soon as I knew I was falling hard and fast for you. That was only a week into the case. Actually, it was the night we danced together. The first time," he adds to clarify.

"Dean, why haven't you told me about them? This's the first time I've seen you struggling."

"That's because," he kisses Cas's head and sits up, "I'm never stressed when I'm with you."

"You're  _with_ me now." Castiel's eyes grow wide and he grabs Dean's face as realization strikes him,  "Jesus, I made it come true! I left you behind. Fuck, Dean, I could hear you screaming at me but I just kept _going_. I'm so sorry, Baby. I'll never leave you again."

"Cas, don't apologize, I'm the one at fault here. I should've kept away from you but I'm...weak." He shrugs his shoulders and stands, putting an end to the discussion. "Mind if use your shower?"

Castiel stands, kissing Dean. "Not weak, you just have exceptional taste in mates."

"You sound like me," he grins as he runs a thumb over the bruise Cas left on his chest. The mark left by his mate.

 

Castiel emerges from his second shower of the day to find Dean standing in the kitchen, half dressed, eating another piece of pie.

"I was under the impression you made that for me." He opens his mouth to accept Dean's fork. "Mmm, half naked Adonis feeding me pastry. I must be dreaming."

"Not dreaming, Love. I'd be happy to do this with you every day." He feeds Castiel another bite and follows up with his tongue. "See how much I love you? I gave you the last bite of my pie. Others have lost fingers attempting that and I gave it to you willingly."

"Yeah, I can feel how much you love me." He wiggles his hips against Dean, biting at his collarbone. 

Dean leans down to reciprocate when his phone buzzes on the counter.

"Ignore it." Cas words are muffled as he sucks on Dean's neck.

"I can't, God that feels good." He pulls Cas with him as he walks to the counter, not wanting to break skin contact. "Huh," he says as he reads the message.

"What?" He continues to kiss along Dean's jaw.

Dean reads aloud. "I need your help at the Warehouse on Wilson. Please join me there before starting your shift."

Cas lifts his head to look at Dean's phone. "Mick maybe?  But don't you have his number?" He asks when he sees unknown number.

"Yeah." He says slowly, drawing out the word as he types a reply.

**Dean: I don't recognize this number. Care to fill me in?**

**Unknown: Shit, sorry, this is Mick. Had to use the little woman's phone, I dropped mine in the snowbank.**

**Dean: Ah, we've all been there. No problem, should I stop to get the truck?**

**Mick: Nope I already have it. See you soon.**

"Guess play time is over, Babe. Time to make the donuts."

Castiel lets out a childish whine that Dean can't help but find endearing. "Don't worry, we have a lifetime together."

 

Dean pulls up in front of Capone's to drop Cas off and leans over to give him a kiss. 

"Dean, there's something about this that isn't sitting well with me. I think I should go with you."

"See that car over there? That black sedan?" He continues when Cas nods his head, "That's Officer Crowley, he's been following us since my house and he'll continue onto the warehouse with me while another car watches you here at the bar." He kisses the tip of Cas nose. "I love how you're looking out for me, Babe."

"Be careful, Dean." He climbs out then leans his head back in before closing the door. "Text me when you get there and again before you leave."

He salutes Cas with a grin and drives off. Now it's Castiel watching the taillights with a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach.

 

"Hello!" Dean calls, his voice echoing back at him. He gets an uneasy feeling and starts to reach for his weapon in his waistband "Hey Mick? Where's the tr-"

"No need for firearms, Dean."

Dean spins around to find Metatron standing in front of a pallet of boxes. His hands behind his back. 

"Oh, Hi, Metatron, Sir. I was supposed to meet Mick. Did I miss him?" He inches his hand towards his gun again. 

"Nu huh uh, I wouldn't do that, Mr. Campbell." Dean's hands freeze as Metatron reveals the revolver in his hand. "Or should I say, Officer Winchester?" He sneers at the surprise on Dean's face.

"I don't know wh-"

"Oh come now, let's drop the act." He takes a few steps towards Dean. "I sent you that text." 

"I should've known Mick wouldn't be so disrespectful to his wife," he says as he thinks of the term "little woman".

"Speaking of disrespectful. Imagine my surprise when it's brought to my attention I had a narc on my payroll. I just can't have that now, can I?" He stops two feet away from the Officer.

"How?" 

"As much as I'm enjoying watching you trying to figure out where you slipped up, I need to tidy up this loose end before your boyfriend," he looks as though he's swallowed a rotten egg on the word 'boyfriend', "comes looking for you. Killing two birds with one stone, so to speak." 

"Come on, Metatron, don't you want the satisfaction of telling me how I fucked up?" Dean's mind is racing, just waiting for his opportunity.

"I'll give you credit, Dean, you're good at your job. It was a lot of a little clues, on their own, they mean nothing. You should know, I watch my employees _very_ closely."

"Is that how you get your rocks off, Metatron? Watching on your little video feed? And by the way, what kind of ridiculous name is Metatron?"

"You should watch your mouth, I'm the one with the gun. I'm also the one who has alluded the authorities for decades. _Decades_ , Dean. A collar like me would be a wet dream for you. Too bad it's never gonna happen."

Dean snorts. "Hardly, you've seen what causes my wet dreams."

The crime lord grimaces. "I have made millions skimming money off the weak and pathetic."

"Are you talking real money or that Monopoly money you've been making?"

He barks out a laugh, swinging his gun. "Hardly play money, I've perfected my technique. I have the perfect operation, just up the road. Tucked discreetly under the guise of a dry cleaning business. No one questions the loud machinery in the wee hours."  

"Perfected? Are you kidding? It took one touch and I knew it was fake. Might want to get your minions to hit the drawing boards again."

"Listen here, you little fag-"

"Hey, no need to get nasty." Dean tilts his head, "Tell me, did you enjoy watching my lover and I go down on each other in your break room? I bet you sat there watching as I swallowed down his -" and there it is. The moment Dean's been waiting for. 

Metatron closes his eyes in disgust. Dean wheels his leg around and kicks the revolver out of Metatron's hand. Dean follows with a lower cut to his jaw, causing him to stumble backward.

Several actions occur all in the the span of a single heartbeat. Dean reaches for his gun as Metatron rush's him. Dean has enough time to think, "Does he really think he can take me down?"  

Behind him, he hears Castiel scream his name as a sharp, burning pain slices through his left side.

Dean drops to his knees as Metatron scrambles away. He tries to reach for the source of his pain, pain that's starting to ebb, but his hands won't move. He looks down and sees some kind of silver handle protruding from his abdomen. "Well look at that. How'd you get there?" he slurs. His body starts to fall forward but two strong arms catch him firmly.

"Hey Cas. Fancy meeting you here." 

"Dean don't talk, Baby. I got you."

Dean doesn't hear Benny shouting into his phone. "Officer down, we need a bus at 3792 Wilson Avenue."

"Cas, be a dear and help me get this stick out of my stomach. I can't seem to..."

"Don't worry about, Dean, we'll take care of it for you. Just sit here with me, ok? Can you stay with me here?"

"I'm so cold and so tired. I think I'll just take....a nap....just wake me when the movie's over. k Cas?" 

Castiel jostles him a little, "Dean!" He yells into his face, cupping it in his hand. "Dean, open your eyes! Dean! You told me this morning we had a lifetime ahead of us! You told me you'd never lie to me again. Open your eyes, damn it!"

It's difficult but Dean would do anything for Castiels so he pries his eyes open. "Neverlieosorry." His words come out as one long slur. 

"I know, Honey. Stay here with me. Let me see those emeralds." Cas let's out a sob as the sirens grow louder. He strokes at Dean's hair, his head in his lap while Benny holds pressure around the blade. 

Dean looks up into Castiel's face. The last image his brain registers are two blue Galaxies, swimming with tears. "Don't cry, my Angel." Dean's vision grows black. "I love you," he whispers as his head falls against Castiel's arm.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I am just as impatient writing angst as I am reading it. My plan was to keep them apart for an entire week...the story had other plans. You are welcome.
> 
> The mobster names came from a movie and a certain soap opera. Anyone recognize the names?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spoke too soon, there will be one more chapter after this gem.
> 
> The last section of this chapter has a POV change... I'm sorry if that is annoying.

_"Cas!" Dean screams to Castiel's retreating form. "Cas! Metatron, he wants to kill you! Cas!" His voice is hoarse and he tries to run after Castiel but something,_ someone _, strong is holding him back._

"Dean!"

".....stitches, Dean."

_Up ahead, Metatron appears. He is wearing the same green T-shirt and tattered grey hoodie he wore when Dean last saw him. When was that again? He asks himself._

_"Cas!" Dean yells again as Metatron approaches Castiel with a long silver blade._

"Dean!" A stern voice to his right makes the image dissipate, as if he blew it away like a puff of smoke. 

That voice, that deep, rumbling voice is  _home_. He feels his body relax. On his face he feels a familiar touch, he turns into the warmth. "Cas?" Dean's voice is barely a whisper but it's enough to make Cas weep. 

"Yeah, Baby, can you open your eyes for me?"

Once again, Dean's unable to ignore the wishes of Castiel. "Ah, there're my favorite gems. Welcome back, Dean."

Dean's vision takes a moment to come into focus but when it does, the first thing he sees is blue, followed by a soft smile. "Hi Angel. Didn't I tell you not to cry?" 

Dean lifts his hand, leaving behind a trail of tubes. He touches Cas's face, wiping away his tears. "I think I was having another nightmare but you made it go away."

"I'm glad, Baby. You,  _we_ , are safe so just lie back and rest." Cas leans over and places a tentative kiss on Dean's mouth. "Want a little water?"

He nods his head slightly, his throat feels like sandpaper. "Oh hey Sammy," Dean croaks when his brother's lumbering form comes into focus. "Could you turn down the sun, it's so bright!"

Sam chuckles lightly. "I'll see what I can do, Dean."

"Small sips," Cas tells him as he gratefully takes a pull off the straw offered to him. "Oh God, so good. Thanks, Angel."

The lights dim, eliciting another sigh of relief. "Thank you." He blinks his eyes a few times bringing his vision into full focus. "Don't just stand there, I'm not going to fall apart, I don't think." He adds as Sam leans down to hug Dean lightly pressing their cheeks together.

"Welcome back, man. How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Dean takes a moment to assess his body. "No pain, more like a dull throb here." He hovers his hand over the left side of his abdomen. "My head feels like it's stuffed full of cotton."

"That's the anesthesia wearing off. The doctor said it should wear off soon." Sam tells him, taking a seat next to Dean's bed and laying a hand on his ankle. "You have a button for pain medication when you need it."

Dean shakes his head slightly. "I don't want it if it'll make me sleep. What happened? Everything's all jumbled in my head."

"Later, Dean, you should rest," Cas tells him, running his fingers through his hair. 

"Cas, I need to know what happened!" Dean snaps then immediately regrets it. "I'm sorry, Cas," he grabs at Castiel's other hand, holding them both tight. "I just feel so out of sorts and it's freaking me out."

"It's ok." Cas kisses Dean's hands. "What do you remember? We'll start there."

"Um," he rubs at his temple, closing his eyes briefly, "I remember fighting with that douchebag who looks like he lives on the streets, I heard you call my name," he points to Cas, "and then...blue. Sad blue eyes."

"How did you get there, Cas? We didn't go together, did we?"

"No, you dropped me off at Capone's."

"Yea, I remember that. I was supposed to meet Mick but when I got there I knew something was wrong. There was no truck and Metatron was there and he had a gun. Did he...did he shoot me?"

"No he didn't, but he did have a gun." Cas waits, letting Dean fill in the blanks himself.

"I remember I got him talking then I kicked his gun away." He stares into Cas's eyes, the warmth and patience bouncing back at him helps more of the pieces fall into place. 

"I heard you call my name but before I could turn, I felt pain."

Cas holds the straw up for Dean to drink. Wanting him to take a short rest, Castiel fills in another hole.

"When you dropped me off I knew something was off. I didn't like it. I almost ran back to your place to get my car but you told me to stay, you wouldn't be alone." Dean lifts Cas's hand and kisses his knuckles.

"I went in and started the afternoon routine. I was cutting lemons when Mick strolled through the door. _Hey,_  I said. _Dean_ _just_ _left_ , _you_ _could've_ _rode_ _over_ _together_.

My stomach plummeted to my fee the moment he looked at me like I had two heads. I dropped the knife and ran outside, pulling out my phone. I was grateful you'd programmed Benny and Charlie in there. I called Benny and told him you were in trouble.

Before I could reach your apartment, a car pulled over and I jumped in. The officer...um..Abaddon, I believe it was, told me to stay in the car once we got there."

"But you didn't listen," Dean states with a grin.

Sam snorts. "Would you?"

Cas answers Dean and Dean answers Sam in unison with. "Hell no." 

Cas stands to kiss Dean again. "I jumped out before she came to a complete stop. As I ran through the door, Metatron was running at you, I saw the blade right before he...fuck, Dean," he sobs, dropping his head onto Dean's hands, his words are muffled, "I couldn't see where he hit you, I just knew I had to reach you."

"Hey, hey I'm here and I'll be okay." He pulls his hand out of Cas's grip in order to lay it on his head. "You saved me, Babe. My guardian Angel." Cas lifts his head, wipes his face on his sleeve and kisses Dean's lips again.

"What happened to Crowley? He was sitting outside when I went in, oh God they didn't.." He tries to sit up but Sam nudges him back down.

"No." Sam answers in a rush, "No, he's fine. They shot him with a tranq gun through his open window the moment you were out of sight. He's a little embarrassed, from what I hear, but he's fine."

Dean relaxes back onto his pillow, unable to hold back the small groan from the burning pain in his side.

"Dean, you need to stay ahead of your pain. No time to be macho. Hit the button."

"Yeah, yeah, always the nag." Despite the pain, Dean grins at his younger brother as he presses the button, triggering the morphine drip into his IV line. 

"So what about this?" he gestures to the source of his pain, taking another drink of water.

"Honestly, Dean, it's a wonder you're still alive. Somehow the blade missed all major organs. It did nick your spleen and the surgeon had to remove it but you'lll be fine. Cas here saved your life, I have no doubt. Not only letting Benny know something was wrong but he stopped you from doing something stupid."

"Not the first time, won't be the last," Dean mumbles, the drugs starting to lay a fuzzy blanket over his brain.

"You, uh, tried pulling the blade out but I stopped you. Benny held pressure while I kept you awake." 

"I love you, you sexy beast," Dean grins. 

"Okay, time for you to sleep!" Cas cries as Sam laughs.

"Don't want to close my eyes, I don't want to fall asleep cause I'd miss you babe..." Dean's garbled singing fades as his eyes drift close.

Cas leans in close to Dean's ear, "Then I'll kiss your eyes and thank God we're together." He kisses Dean, "I love you, Dean."

 

@@@@@

Dean awakes to a hissing sound. It takes him a moment to realize he is the source of the sound. He's sucking air through his teeth. He gropes for his button before he open his eyes and is relieved when it's thrust into his hand, allowing him to press it firmly twice.

"I begged the nurses to medicate you but they said you had to do it yourself," Sam tells him as he returns to his seat on Dean's right side. He rubs Dean's leg. "Hang in there, it shouldn't take long."

He pries his eyes open and looks around the room. 

"He'll be back any minute. I made him go home to eat, shower and hopefully sleep but I doubt he will sleep. He was anxious to get back to you."

Dean's facial muscles relax and he lets out a long breath as the medication takes effect, dulling the burn.

"What day is it?" Dean asks, reaching for his water cup. 

Sam hands it to him. "Saturday morning."

"What happened to Friday?"

"Let's see, Thursday was spent in surgery, recovery took us into Friday. Aside from awaking with a vengeance yesterday, you've been drifting in and out." Sam takes a drink from the coffee in his hands.

Dean sets his own cup down. "Damn, no wonder I'm so hungry. I don't remember much of yesterday except every time I would fall asleep someone was waking me to poke and prod."

"I know, damn those nurses for watching your vitals."

"Smart ass, you and Cas both. Smart asses."

"Speaking of, I have to say he's pretty awesome, Dean."

Dean's face splits into a wide grin and his eyes glisten. "I know, right!? Didn't I tell you?" 

Sam's grin matches Dean's. "Yeah. Yeah you did. He's definitely out of your league though." 

Dean waves his hand. "Couldn't agree more."

"Well hello, boys."

The brothers turn to see a petite woman in scrubs enter the room carrying a food tray.

"Food!" Dean cries, reaching for the buttons to raise his bed.

"Just a moment, Dearie. I need to check your incision first." She sets the tray onto Dean's table.

"Uh, should I leave?" Sam starts to stand.

"No, you've seen me in worse conditions than this. Remember that time we were out and I was first introduced to the Purple Nurple?" Dean ignores his brother's eye roll.

"When was your last morphine dose?" The nurse asks.

Dean looks to Sam who glances at the clock. "Ten minutes."

"I would suggest you hit that little button again, this is going to be a wee bit unpleasant, I'm afraid."

"But then I get to eat, right?" Dean asks, sounding like a little boy asking to go out and play after dinner.

"Yes," she chuckles softly as she hands Dean his pain dispenser, "then you can eat."

She lowers his sheet and rucks up his gown. "Are you one to get squeamish?"

"Uh, no I'm good."

"That's my brother, Rambo."

"Oh this isn't your husband? The other nurses have been going on and on about the beauties in room 206."

Both men cry out "No," in disgust just as Castiel walks in the door. His hair is damp and he's carrying a coffee cup and Dean's duffle bag.

"No what?" He asks. 

"There's my Angel! Cas your ears must've been burning."

"Oh, yes he is quite good looking. Neither of you have done so bad for youselves, no?"

She starts to pull off the tape holding down the large bandage covering most of Dean's torso.

Castiel kisses Dean as he winces. "Did you take your medication, Dean?"

In lieu of an answer he says, "Cas, this is," he leans towards the nurse, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"It's Rowena. Now lay back this may hurt a wee bit." Her long, red braid swishes down her back as she speaks.

"Cas, this is Rowena. Isn't she cute? She's like a cute Irish Pixie Fairy. When she speaks she sounds like she's reciting poetry. I want to take her home with us."

Part of Dean's statement isn't wrong, her laughter sounds like musical notes as she inspects his wound. "Well I guess the morphine is doing its job."

"Possible, but it's hard to tell with my brother, he kind of always talks like that."

"Dean," Cas adds wearily, "Rowena is clearly Scottish."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Didn't I?" He looks at Rowena.

"Of course it is. And thank you for the kind words, I've never been called a Fairy before."

"I have." Cas grumbles, making Sam laugh.  He grins back at the taller man as Sam moves out of Cas's chair.

"You may be changing your tune soon and calling me a witch. This will undoubtedly hurt."

Castiel slips his hand into Dean's as he takes a seat. 

With gloved fingers Rowena presses lightly around his incision then moves to his abdomen. 

Dean lets out a soft grunt.

"Sorry, your guts are going to be a bit tender."

"But I can still eat? Right?" 

"Glad to see your priorities are in order." Cas kisses Dean's temple before leaning over to look at the exposed incision. "Looks like you will have a wicked scar. That's kind of hot."

Sam just shakes his head and drinks his coffee. He shifts his hip when his phone buzzes. I bet that's Eileen, they're chomping at the bit to see you." He looks at his phone. "Yup, I was right."

"Tell her to get her sassy behind here and bring my crazy nephew with her."

"Are you up for visitors? Cas and I have been holding back a whole herd of them." 

"Bring 'em." Dean tells Sam.

"Looks good, Dean." Rowena tapes down a fresh bandage, pulls his gown down and the sheet up. Placing a hand on his shoulder she says, "Dr. Munro will be by during rounds to check in on you. Give me a holler, in the mean time, if you need anything." She swings his tray over his lap as Dean raises his bed. 

"It's not gourmet, I'm afraid, but your stomach won't be able to handle much. Take it easy. What's your pain level at, 1-10?"

"Eh, 6" he says.

"If you are doing ok tonight we have orders to back off the morphine and add an oral analgesic. Something that, hopefully, won't make you as fuzzy."

"Sounds good, I can't be sleeping all the time. My adoring fans need to see me."

"Fans or not, just remember you had major abdominal surgery. You need to rest. Later tonight we will get you up on your feet a bit. The last thing you want is a nasty blood clot. That'll certainly put a bee in your bonnet."

"Boy, good times ahead for me." He looks over his tray of mashed potatoes minus gravy, apple juice, jello and pasta drizzled with olive oil. "It isn't 5 star but it's better than nothing." He tucks into his potatoes and moans in satisfaction. 

"Well, that's something, isn't it?" Rowena comments, raising her perfectly arched eyebrow at Dean. She pats Cas on the shoulder. "Make sure to take care of yourself as well. You're no good to him if you aren't eating," she leans in close to Cas' face, "or sleeping. I see those dark circles." She glides out of the room, it's as if she's floating she's so graceful.

"I tried telling him. Didn't I tell you to get some sleep?" Sam is halfway out of his chair, gesturing wildly at Cas and Dean is holding his side laughing.

"And I thought you were the master at fussing." Cas says to Dean as he collapses into his chair.

This makes Dean laugh harder. "You guys, I'm gonna pop a stitch!"

"I learned from the master." Sam tells Cas, tipping his chin towards his brother.

"You ok, Babe? You look a little green."

Dean pushes his tray away, hand on his stomach. "I think I've had enough for now." He drops his head onto his pillow and closes his eyes. His mouth is hanging open, softly snoring, in no time.

 

@@@@@

Sam and Cas aren't even through their first hand of Rummy before Dean is awake and reaching for his lunch tray. He's finishing his jello and opening his apple juice when Sam's phone buzzes.

"Eileen and Mal are leaving the house now." Sam glances up at Dean as he sets his phone down. "Hey Dean?"

"What?"

"Do you have to use the rest room?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Because you're acting like Malachi acts when he needs to pee but doesn't want to stop what he's doing. You're all squirmy."

"That's because I know it's going to hurt like a son of a bitch to get up. I almost wish the catheter was still in place."

"This is coming from the guy who had a compound fracture in his arm and didn't say boo for almost an entire day. And no you don't, no one would rather have a urninary catheter in place."

"True," Dean concedes on a sigh.

"Come on, you got this." Sam tells him firmly.

Dean throws his covers aside as Cas helps him scoot to the edge of the bed. The color drains from his face once his legs are dangling. 

"I can get you a pan if this is too much." Cas tells him, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.

"No, I can do this, I have to sooner or later." Cas and Sam each take an arm and slowly hoist him to his feet.

Dean winces and breathes deeply but he manages to shuffle the four paces to the restroom, pushing his IV pole ahead of him. "You got him, Cas?"

Cas nods his head and he supports his weight while Dean empties his bladder and washes his hands. Sam is waiting to help get him back into bed. 

"Well done, Dean." Sam pulls the blanket back over his waist and hands him his button.

"Holy shit! I don't want to do that again anytime soon. That was more humiliating then having Cas hold my puke bucket as I hurled my guts out."

"Oh come on, Dean. What if I was the one in that bed? Would you think of me as weak?" He wipes the sweat off his boyfriend's forehead with a wet cloth.

Dean grabs his hand as he pulls the cloth away, and kisses it. "No I sure as hell wouldn't." He says quietly.

"Good, now suck it up, follow the orders given to you and accept help so we can get you home." He ducks into the bathroom.

"You tell him, Castiel!" Sam calls with a fist pump in the air.

"Fine, whatever. Ganging up on the sick," he pouts. "You know, I would love to br-"

A toothbrush, loaded with paste, materializes before Dean's face. He turns to see Cas holding the brush patiently, a glass of water and spit basin tucked under his arm.

"You know me well, Cas. You are too good to me." Dean's smile is enough to melt every polar ice cap.

"I could have told you that." Sam doesn't miss a beat.

Dean tosses his empty apple juice container through the space between them and hits Sam square in the chest.

"Well I can see the Winchesters are in the same room, food is flying."

"Benny! Long time no see!" Sam tosses the juice container into the trash and hugs the Detective.

"Hey, Bitches!" Charlie's smiling face appears around the corner, followed closely by Donna.

They all hug Dean, handling him with care.

"Charlie," Dean addresses his friend while holding her hand, "I want you to meet Castiel." He turns to Cas, "Cas, this is Charlie."

"It's not every day one gets to meet a real life angel." She tells him as she first shakes Cas's hand and then pulls him into a hug. "Thank you for taking care of our Dean." She whispers into his ear before pulling back.

Castiel's face is flushed red from his neck to the tips of his ears. "My pleasure. It's nice to finally meet you, Charlie."

"Actually," he looks around the room, releasing Charlie's hand in order to grab Dean's, "it's nice to meet all of you. I would rather it have been next week during Thanksgiving dinner, but whatcha gonna do?"

They all laugh.

"Oh that reminds me," Benny holds up a six pack of beer, "for your recovery."

Donna approaches Dean and hugs him again. "Charlie and are going to step out, there're several more people who want to say Hi and I'm sure you're itching to hear the latest on the case."

"I am, I just didn't want to say anything in front of Nurse Ratchet and Florence Nightingale here, they might make me take my medication and sleep."

"You should do that as well. See you later, Dean." Charlie calls over her shoulder as the two women leave.

"Ok, I can't wait anymore. Please, debrief me."

"I promise you will get every detail but give me a minute, there is someone else who needs to speak with you. You too, Cas."

Dean swallows down his frustration as Castiel appears perplexed. Benny hangs out the door. "Come on in," he drawls.

Dean and Castiel both stare at the man who walks through the door. His brown hair is no longer combed perfectly, he wears blue jeans and, of all things, a black hooded sweatshirt.

"Hi Dean." He shakes Dean's hand firmly then turns to Castiel. "Nice to see you, Castiel." All hints of the British Isles absent.

"Dean close your mouth," Sam tells him.

"You?!?" Dean practically squeals.

"I don't understand." Castiel says.

"Cas, I never had a chance to tell you there was another undercover officer working for Metatron. The Captain wouldn't tell me who it was, I actually thought it might have been Mick....but never you!" He cries, looking at Ketch. "You were always such a..."

"Pompous ass." Castiel says dryly.

Ketch laughs loudly. "That's the best compliment I have ever received, Castiel. I have done my job well." He casually perches a hip on the end of Dean bed.

"What is your real name?" Cas asks.

"Arthur Fetch."

"Whoa, talk about a stretch."

Fetch continues as if uninterrupted. "Born in Canada, raised in Ohio most of my life. I've been working this case for close to six years. Dean, I have you to thank for finally freeing me of Arthur Ketch."

"Me? How so? I hardly did anything these last few weeks."

"Couldn't be further from the truth, Brother," Benny says with a shake of his head.

"For starters, I had no idea there was a connection to Frank de Marco. Metatron kept me out of that loop completely. You tipped us to that fact. I was able to place a tracking device on Russo's car that night."

"That's why you showed up suddenly!" Cas cries.

"I wanted to be there is case there were...issues." 

"You also brought the Warehouse on Wilson to our attention." Fetch continues, "Up until your visit out there, I was under the impression it was used strictly for storage."

"I take it that wasn't the case?" Castiel asks.

Fetch shakes his head. "Once we deemed it safe after your visit, we set up surveillance cameras. Metatron has been using that location as kind of a staging area for several operations. Stolen vehicles have been stripped for parts and supplies for his counterfeit money scheme have been housed there til they could be moved up the street, to name a few. Speaking of which, you were the one to get him to give up the location of his printing shop."

"Huh, so he's going away for a long time," Sam observes.

"He'll never taste freedom again. On top of his numerous federal, state and local laws he has broken, we can now tack on attempted murder of a police officer. And, you know the blade he used on you?"

"Little hard to forget, it was temporarily a part of my body. Not to mention it was something I've never seen before."

"I would think not, turns out it's a one of a kind relic, stolen from the Smithsonian."

"Huh." Dean says, still stunned. 

"Huh, indeed," Cas echoes.

"With the years of evidence I have been collecting and the men coming forward to strike deals for their testimonies, Marvin "Metatron" Armstrong will never see outside a locked barrier again."

"So what was all about with the job offer the other day?"

"Oh yes, that. Well, I needed a way to check in with you, see how you were doing. I know from experience working undercover is stressful. I also knew you and Cas had...hit a rough patch. I knew you didn't like me much and so I needed an excuse to get you chatting a little."

"Well, thanks for that," he says quietly.

"I always had your back, Dean even if you didn't know it."

"The counterfeit bill."

"I could read your thought process as you stood there. I knew you were torn between giving it to me or giving it to your handler. I also knew you were being set up by Metatron."

"Again, thanks."

"No need to thank me, Dean. Captain Turner said he'll be by to visit you later. At some point we'll need a more detailed account of what happened at the warehouse but that can all wait until you're back on your feet." He shakes Dean's hand a final time. "You are a fine officer, Dean. You should be proud of your work."

He turns to Castiel and shakes his hand as well. "Castiel, you're an amazing young man. You have an exceptional work ethic."

"Gee, thanks. Ketch, uh I mean Fetch? Arthur?" Cas throws his hands up in the air, "I give up!"

"Poor Cas." Dean winks at Castiel.

"I guess my invitation to the party was lost in the mail." Mick strolls in, carrying two large take out bags from the bar.

"Must have because we'd never exclude you. Please tell me you're still Irish," Cas says, looking pointedly at Fetch.

"Aye, through and through," he says with a grin. Cas happily accepts Mick's hug. 

Dean rubs the back of his neck and looks up at Mick. "I'm sorry to deceive you, man. You really have been a great friend to me."

"No worries, Dean. You did a really good thing, a fine job. I brought you a reward." He reaches in one of the bags and pulls out a wrapped parcel. He hands it to Dean but does not let go right away, "Now your nurse said it was ok for you to eat this but not all at once."

"Ah, it's still warm!" Dean unwraps a grilled ham and cheese sandwich.

"I went easy on the cheese, this time. I'll bring you the works once your diet is free of restrictions."

"Mmm!" Dean swallows the first bite down. He points with his sandwich, "Mick this is my brother Sam and my friend Benny." 

Sam, Benny and Fetch all shake Mick's hand after he sets the bags down on Dean's table. "I brought food for everyone, I figured Dean would have a lot of visitors."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Mick. Thank you." Cas pulls out his own sandwich.

"Yeah? That's awesome, thanks!" Sam says.

"I'm going to go, looks like you could use some rest, my friend," Mick tells Dean with a pat on his shoulder and a wide smile.

"I am little tired." Dean's eyes widen as a thought occurs to him, "Are you all out of a job now?" 

"Temporarily, I was told it may open back up if a buyer comes forward. I dunno, I'm not worried about it yet. My wife is a psychiatrist, she can support my bum for a bit. Maybe we'll take a vacation. Here nor there, it shouldn't be a worry to you Dean. As I said, you did a fine job."

"I'll second that." Fetch tells him as he follows Mick out the door, with Benny close on their heels. 

The three men have a moment of quiet before the next wave hits.

"Daddy!" Malachi comes flying in the room, jumping into his dad's waiting arms. 

"There is my favorite little guy! I've missed you." He throws Mal onto his hip as Eileen walks in the room. "Hi, Honey. How was your drive?"

She signs "Fine," before falling into her husband's one armed embrace then reaching up to kiss him.

"Hey, dinner and a show!" Dean calls from his bed. He may tease them often but he loves seeing how affectionate they are even after so many years together.

"Jealous?" She asks with a smile. Eileen's eyes widen and Dean knows she has gotten her first look at Castiel, he doesn't hold back his snicker.

"Eileen, this is Castiel. Cas this is my sister Eileen and my nephew, Malachi."

Eileen holds Castiel's gaze as she closes the gap between them. Her smile is soft as she takes a hold of one of his hands and then the other, unable to hear the "Hey!" from Dean as she pulls it from of his grasp.

"I'm sorry, Dean hasn't had time to teach me any signs." Dean feels his chest fill with pride as Cas speaks to Eileen. He doesn't raise his voice as Dean has seen some morons do. His tone is even and he annunciates his words just a tad more, holding her eye contact. "He tells me it will be difficult for me because I'm not one to express much emotion on my face."

Eileen studies Cas' for a moment, a slight tilt to her head. "Dean is wrong."

"Hey!" He cries again then taps her hip to get her attention, when she turns he gives her his best pouty glare.

"He is wrong," she sticks her tongue out at her brother before turning back to Cas, "because I can read everything in your eyes." She hugs Cas and speaks into his ear, echoing Charlie's words from earlier, "Thank you for taking care of Dean." 

"No need," Cas stops speaking when he realizes she can't hear him, he waits until she pulls back and starts again. "No need to thank me, the pleasure and the honor is all mine."

"Dad, let me down! It's my turn!"

Mal jumps down and scurries to his mom's side. Cas kneels down and offers his hand to Malachi. "You must be Dean's other brother I have heard so much about." 

"No-oo!" Mal says on a grin.

"No? His father?"

"No! Dean is my uncle!" 

"Oooh," Cas says quietly, his forehead wrinkles and his eyes grow wide, "So nice to meet you! Now I remember, I saw your picture on Halloween! You looked pretty tough as a ranger."

Mal shakes his hand, "Yeah it was pretty awesome!" He looks down at his feet, "Um I'm sorry you got sick."

Cas shrugs his shoulder, "It happens but I had a really good nurse by my side who took really good care of me. And now I get to take care of him as he gets better."

"He loves you, you know."

Dean thinks his heart may pop out of his chest. Castiel will never cease to amaze him, this is the first time he has seen Cas interact with a child and he is a natural. 

Cas glances at Dean, then out of the side of his mouth he says, "Yeah, I kind of love him too. Like a lot, actually. I know he has been missing you, I bet he would like a hug from you." 

"I don't want to hurt you, Uncle Dean." He turns his little face up to Dean and every set of eyes in the room fill with tears.

"You will do just fine, hugs are the best medicine, you know." Cas lifts Mal up, "Just be gentle."

Mal kneels next to Dean's right hip and slips his arms around Dean's neck. Dean closes his eyes and kisses the boy's neck. "Hey buddy! I've missed you Little Man."

"Daddy says you are coming home now."

Sam translates for Eileen as Mal's back is turned to her.

"He's right. As soon as the doctors give me the ok, I'm out of here."

"From what I've seen so far that should be very soon, Mr. Winchester."

A tall man with thick dark hair and a white coat walks in the door.

"Dr. Munro, I haven't had a chance to properly thank you." Cas shakes the young man's hand as Eileen pulls Mal off Dean's bed.

"No need to thank me. I'm just happy to have been of service."

"How's our hero feeling today?" The doctor turns to Dean and offers his hand. "Griffin Munro, last we spoke you were a little out of it."

"Sorry Doc, I don't remember much," Dean tells him sheepishly as his hand rubs at the back of his neck.

"No need," he waves his hand in front of him and reaches to the end of the bed to grab Dean's chart. He flips through it and returns it to its clip. "How's your pain level?"

"Four. I'm just tired right now." 

He fights the urge to smirk at Eileen. Her facial features are quite animated as she signs to Dean behind the doctor's back. She keeps her back to her husband as well.

_"Wow! Did we just step into an episode of Dr. Sexy?"_ Dean wiggles his fingers at her from where they lay at his side. Dean knows this is not the time to laugh, even though he wants to.

Dean turns his full attention back to Doogie Howser, something about his pain medication and changing the type.

"Hey Doc, can I ask a question?"

"Of course, Dean."

"Sam told me you had to remove my spleen. So what does that mean?"

"Unfortunately, I wasn't able to stop the bleeding so I did need to remove it. The spleen kind of acts as a filter for the blood, I like to think if it as a car wash. It cleans out the old cells and scrubs out bacteria. Without it, the body is able to adapt. The downside is you're left a little more susceptible to infection, especially now during your recovery time."

"So what, I have to live like Travolta in  _The Boy in the Plastic Bubble_?"

Dr. Munro laughs, his thick Adams apple bobbing. "Definitely not, you're a healthy, young man with a strong immune system. As a precaution, we started you on antibiotics during surgery and you'll be going home with a few more days worth."

"Dean," Sam says quietly, not wanting to interrupt, "we're going to step out, you don't need an audience during your examine."

"I'll be quick," Dr. Munro promises as he washes his hands.

Dean pushes down his sheet and lowers the top of the bed.

Cas lays a hand on Dean's shoulder for support. As a distraction, Dean studies the young surgeon's face as he removes Dean's bandage. 

He agrees with his Sister in law, he's quite attractive, not Castiel attractive, but good looking. Flawless, tan skin, sharp nose and a strong, chiseled jaw. His neck is quite remarkable, it's very long. Not bad but he prefers his Angel.

He reminds Dean of someone but he can't seem to place who that would be.

"I'm very pleased with how quickly you're starting to heal. This bruising will begin to fade soon," he gestures to the deep purple and blue splotches starting at the incision and spreading outward.  "I'm sure Rowena has let you know you'll be tender for a few days. The path of the blade will take longer, muscles need time to mend. Couch surfing mixed with light activities for at least two weeks."

Dean studies the incision while the doctor presses on his abdomen. The eight inch wound runs parallel to his body, starting at his left hip and ending just below his rib cage. The memory of Metatron's face as he rushed Dean flashes in his mind, it's quickly replaced by Castiel's tear streaked face, lip trembling as he begs Dean to keep his eyes open.

Dean blinks several times, turns his gaze away from the past and gropes for Castiel's hand, his future.

Cas leans in close, looking Dean in the eye, noses almost rubbing. "You doing okay?"

Dean holds Cas's hand tighter and kisses his cheek. "I am now, I have my anchor."

Cas straightens up and kisses the top of Dean's head as Dr. Munro is replacing the last piece of tape. 

"I think we can get that IV out tonight and send you on your way home tomorrow. Normally I' keep you here longer but you're doing remarkably well and convalescing happens quicker at home." He pats Dean's thigh. "Sound like a plan?" 

Dean smiles, home sounds like music to his ears. "Best I've heard all day. Thanks, Doc."

"Thank you for your service in uniform, Dean."

"Good night, Doctor," Cas tells him.

Sam, Eileen and Mal return to the room. The adults sit on the couch as Mal climbs up to sit at the foot of the bed. 

A loud yawn sneaks out of Dean before he can stop it.

"We should go, you need to get some sleep," Eileen tells him.

"No!" Dean sits up so fast, he winces, clutching his side and he quickly he lowers himself back down. "Damn." He says quietly. "Please, stay. It's early yet. I just need a a few minutes to recharge. Mick brought food."

"Ok, we'll stay for a little while," she relents.

With a kiss from Cas and a full heart, Dean allows his eyes to slip closed.

The next time they open, Dean fights the urge not to cry. Sam and Eileen are huddled together on the small sleeper couch. His brother shows no signs of how uncomfortable he must be, his long body making the couch appear to be a child's accessory. Eileen is tucked under his arm while they share a silent conversation between stolen kisses.

Malachi and Castiel are sitting at the end of Dean's bed playing a card game. "Guess what, Uncle Cas?" 

Dean's breath hitches but no one seems to notice. Dean is proven wrong when Cas slowly slips his hand under the table and grasps at his calf, a smile on his face. He doesn't look his way, just answers Mal.

"Um, I guess you're really good at crazy eights because it appears you're going to win. Again."

"No, I mean yes that's true, but that not it," he grins.

Cas draws another three cards before he's able to discard. "Um, you have a shell like a turtle under that shirt?"

"No!" He giggles. "But that would be awesome! I love turtles!"

"I knew that." Cas winks at Mal, "Ok, I give up. What?"

"I'm going to be a big brother!" He bounces on the bed, unable to hide his excitement.

"Mal, take it easy on the bed there." Eileen reminds him gently.

Cas inhales sharply, "You are?" He turns around to look at Sam and Eileen. Eileen nods her head in confirmation and Sam beams. "I didn't know that!"

"That's because mom and dad swore Uncle Dean to secrecy. He doesn't keep secrets well." He whispers loudly.

"Hey!" Dean growls, nudging the little thigh with his foot. "I heard that and you should know I _kept_ that secret."

Mal's face falls. "I'm sorry to wake you up. Did I hurt your belly?"

"No, I'm fine Little Man, you didn't hurt me and you didn't wake me." Dean says quietly. "I could use a hug though." He raises his bed and scrubs at his face while Castiel helps the boy move up the bed. 

"Much better." He holds his nephew tight until his side protests. "You know," he tells Mal as he tucks him into the crook of his arm, "you are going to be a fantastic big brother."

"How're you feeling?" Cas asks Eileen as he packs the cards away, making sure she has a clear view of his face.

"Not bad. I have my days," she tells him. "All worth it in the end."

Cas gazes at Malachi and Dean. "I would imagine it is."

Sam stands. "We should go."

"Ahhh," Dean and Mal whine in unison.

Sam laughs. "We'll be back in the morning."

"Fi-ine." Dean kisses Mal's head before he climbs down. "Are you driving back home?"

"No, we're crashing at your apartment."

"Don't worry," Cas tells Dean at the look of panic on his face. "I've already cleaned the apartment."

"Oh," he sighs, "thanks, Babe."

"Hugs and kisses for everyone then we're out of here," Eileen says. Following her own orders, she hugs Dean and kisses his cheek, doing the same with Castiel.

"Call if you need anything," Sam tells them. "We'll be back after breakfast."

"Talk about a revolving door! I'm exhausted, I can't imagine how you feel!" Cas sighs.

"Cas, I never saw you eat anything, please eat a sandwich. Better yet, go to the cafeteria, get something hot and sneak me up something."

"No, I don't want to leave you." He grunts and drops his head onto Dean's thigh when there's a knock on the door.

"Hello, I brought you both some dinner."

"I didn't know nurses delivered meals," Cas comments as Rowena sets the full tray down.

"Normally we don't but it seems I have a bit of a soft spot for the two of you." 

"Thanks, Rowena. I was just telling Cas he needs to eat."

"Good, the two of you can eat while I check your vitals and remove this pesky IV. I'll get your pills when I'm finished here but do you need a dose of morphine first? What's your pain level?"

"Four."

"Dean," Cas says sternly. He's been watching him closely and he knows that isn't true.

"Maybe six but I don't want anymore of that stuff. I hate how it makes me feel."

"Fair enough, Dearie. How about you get a little food in your stomach then I'll get your pills before I take this out? It'll give them time to take effect before we get you up out of bed."

"Ugh, I don't like the sound of that."

"Hey, the good news is you can take a shower, if you feel strong enough."

That perks Dean up. "Really?"

"Oh sure, you don't have any external sutures so it's fine. The biggest challenge is holding yourself up that long but there is a seat in there if you need it. I would imagine your strong husband here is up to the challenge of helping as well."

"Sounds like a great plan." They both smile as they pick up their forks.

Neither man corrects Rowena of her use of the word husband.

@@@@@

 

Castiel does join Dean in the shower. He helps him soap up, wash his hair, and he's there to hold him steady when he's shaky.

Cas dries him off and supervises while Dean dresses in the clothes Castiel had brought back from home earlier in the day. He steps out to dress himself while Dean uses the toilet. He returns to join him at the sink. Together they brush their teeth, grinning at how silly they look, side by side with toothpaste foaming.

"That felt amazing but now I am wiped out," Dean tells Cas as he gingerly arranges himself in bed.

"How're you feeling, pain wise, I mean?" He runs the towel over his head before hanging it in the bathroom. "That was a lot of time on your feet with your torso supporting your weight."

"There's pain but nothing I can't handle. Oh no you don't, get your ass over here. There's no way you're sleeping anywhere but here with me," Dean chastises Cas as he starts to lower himself onto the chair.

"Dean I can't, I don't want to cause you anymore pain. I can see it written all over your face how much pain you're in."

"I'm hurting because I miss you and I need to hold you. Please, I'm not above begging and you know it."

He sighs heavily and grabs the pillow off the couch and wedges it under Dean's left side, supporting his wound.

"Oh, that's nice, thanks. What made you think to do that?"

"I remember all too clearly what my recovery felt like after my appendix was removed. That hurt like a bitch and I didn't lose my spleen or, you know, have a 6 inch blade pass through my guts."

"Pass _by_ my guts, not _through_. Big difference."

"Pain is pain, Dean, I wish you wouldn't act so macho."

"You want honesty, Cas? I'm about to bawl like a baby if you don't get in this bed with me. I'm not kidding," he tells him quietly and Cas knows he's serious.

He climbs in as gently as he can, pressing the length of his body tightly against Dean's hip and thigh. He drapes his arm and head over his chest, letting out a quiet sigh. "Alone at last."

"This is where I always want to be, Cas. I love you so damn much it hurts. How're you doing, Baby?"

Cas lifts his head to look Dean in the eye. "Me? You shouldn't be concerned with me. You're here and safe so _I'm_ fine."

"Now who's being macho? Cas, you just went through a ton of shit. I'm not even talking about what happened to me. How about the fact you just met almost every person I know in a matter of a few hours."

"I'll admit that was a little overwhelming."

"You and Sam seem to be hitting it off."

"I've enjoyed your brother's company, he has a very calming effect over those around him."

"Did you call him?"

"No, I would have though. They wouldn't let me ride in the ambulance because they needed the space to work on you. Benny called him while Donna drove. I was sitting in that waiting room, feeling all alone and helpless."

"I'm so sorry."

"I was sitting there and I heard someone say your name. Sam saw me before anyone would give him an answer. It was a little surreal meeting him that way but, you may think I'm weird, but it was also comforting."

Dean makes a "hmm" sound, not wanting to interrupt but letting Cas know he understood.

Cas sits up enough to prop himself up on his elbow. He traces the picture on Dean's chest while he speaks. "This giant man approaches me, doesn't even confirm I am who I am, he just asks 'How is my brother?' I swear he read my thoughts and knew how lost I was because he just...hugged me."

"Yeah that's, Sammy alright."

"But Dean, that's you as well. It was like I was hugging an extension of you and," he pauses for a steadying breath because his voice is starting to waver, "I guess I knew I wasn't alone. He never left my side. From the moment he found me to the moment you woke up. Anytime we were given an update, he made sure I was included."

Dean pulls Castiel to his mouth, joining their lips in an intense kiss. There's something about the idea of Castiel being alone that makes Dean want to wrap him in a warm blanket and never let him go.

They pull apart, gasping slightly for air. The emotions are running high for each of them. "I've told you before, as long as I'm breathing you'll never be alone. And like it or not, if something happens to me, you're now part of the Winchester family. Congratulations, Castiel, in a matter of 48 hours you've gained two siblings, a nephew (plus baby), a father in law and a surrogate aunt and uncle. Not to mention the respect of my entire precinct."

"Well that isn't daunting."

"I, uh, heard what Mal was calling you. You ok with that?"

Castiel smiles at Dean. "Yeah, more than ok. He actually asked me first. He said you had told him during your visit that you wanted to spend forever with me. He said he didn't like calling me "just" Castiel. If I was special to his Uncle Dean then I was special to him as well." Cas pauses, "Is he really only seven?"

Dean shakes his head. "I swear that kid is smarter then the whole lot of us at times."

"He is an old soul."

Dean laughs softly. "Kiss me, Cas."

 

@@@@@

Castiel awakes with a start. The nightmare of the warehouse fading. He's grateful his sudden movement didn't wake Dean. He pushes up to his elbow in order to look at his face.

He runs his fingers along his jawline and over Dean's pretty, pink lips. He'd never described anything on a man as 'pretty' until he met Dean Winchester. Many may find the term offensive but Cas finds it fitting and far from emasculating.

As he sleeps with his mouth slightly open, he seems to be at peace; such a drastic change compared to how he looked after his surgery. Castiel had refused to leave his side for even a moment. His skin was so pale, his eyes appeared sunken and his breathing was ragged and shallow. There were a several moments Castiel was convinced he would lose him and he was ready to follow Dean where ever he was headed. 

Castiel glances down at Dean's hand resting on his chest, he shifts in order to pick it up and is startled by the sight of a man sleeping on the small couch. He appears to be about the same size as Dean, darker hair and a greying scruff of a beard. He comes to the conclusion this must be Dean's father. 

Cas lays his head back on Dean's chest and picks up his hand. He admires the thick fingers, rough skin of his palm and the scars peppered over the surface. As he's kissing each knuckle a vibration rumbles beneath his ear.

"Feel free to move further down with that delicious mouth of yours."

Cas snorts before laying a final kiss into his palm. 

"No? How about up then?"

Castiel lifts his head, bringing his finger to his mouth. "Shh, sleeping." He points to the couch. 

Dean lifts his head for a better look. "Huh." He shrugs his shoulders, like having a parent appear unexpectedly is an every day occurrence. He says, "Where were we?" He tilts Cas's chin up for a kiss.

"Sleep okay?"

"With you here Angel? Better then okay."

"Do you want to get up? I would imagine you're a little stiff."

"I don't _want_ to get up but I do need to pee. Can you help me?"

"That's a given, of course."

Cas climbs out and grabs a hold of Dean's legs, swinging them to the edge. He waits as Dean takes a moment before pushing to his feet. Once on his feet, Dean is steady but Cas walks beside just in case. He's waiting outside the door when he hears John stir.

Dean shuffles out just as John is sitting up, scrubbing his face in the same manner Dean does.

"Morning, Dad."

"Hello, Dean." He gets up and quickly walks to Dean, pulling him into a hug.

"I told you when we spoke yesterday you didn't have to come up."

"My boy needed me, you didn't think I could stay away, did you? I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner." He pulls out of the hug and turns to Castiel.

"But I knew you were in good hands." He smiles a crooked smile at Cas. "You must be the man who has my oldest all tongue tied any time we talk on the phone."

"Dad, this is Castiel."

John offers his hand to Castiel. "Castiel, what a unique name. Nice to finally meet you, son."

"You too as well, Sir. Uh, you can call me Cas if it's easier."

"Please call me John. We're practically family, Castiel."

The word family gives Castiel pause, it's such a foreign word to him and yet, this man he's never met is already claiming him as one of his own. A sudden change in Dean's demeanor pulls Cas from his state of awe.

"Dean sit. I'm going to stop by the nurses station and see about getting you some pain relief and breakfast."

"You do look a little peaked, Dean." John grabs his son under the arm and lowers him to the edge of the bed.

Dean lays a hand over his side. "Thanks." He swallows audibly. "Uh, yeah, that would be great Cas."

"How about some water while Cas runs out?" Cas nods gratefully to John as he fills a glass and hands it to Dean. He pulls the chair close to Dean and sits down.

"Good morning, if it isn't half of my favorite duo! How's our patient this morning?" Rowena bats her long eyelashes at Cas.

"He won't admit it but he's in quite a lot of pain."

Rowena sets down the chart in her hand and stands. "I'll be right in, his breakfast should be up in a jiffy. Why don't you grab him a banana or some yogurt from the family kitchen to tide him over?"

Castiel hasn't visited the family kitchen yet but it isn't difficult to find.  A better description would be a walk in pantry. Each drawer is labeled with its contents, the fridge is stocked with juice, fruit and yogurt. He grabs a yogurt, locates the drawer labeled plastic utensils and plucks out a spoon.

Back in his room, Dean hasn't moved from the edge of the bed. His face has a little more color to it but there's sweat beading at his hairline. John seems to be doing his best at distracting him with a story about Bobby, his hand rubbing at Dean's thigh.

"Your narcotic fairy has arrived!" Rowena calls from behind Cas.

Cas peels off the lid of the yogurt and removes the plastic covering on the spoon. He holds the container out to Dean. "Baby, will you eat this for me?" Cas doesn't worry about his use of the endearment in front of John. His only concern is clearing out the haze of pain that has settled across Dean's shining emeralds.

"Cas, I don't know if I can." He eyes the dairy product wearily.

"Just two bites. Those pills are going to be rough on your empty stomach. The last thing you want to put those healing muscles through is the act of vomiting." He shakes the cup, "Come on, don't make me spoon feed you in front of your dad."

Dean takes the yogurt with a grumble. 

"Thank you, Dean." He remains standing because he doesn't want to jostle the bed. Instead, he lays a hand on Dean's neck, gently massaging as he eats his yogurt.

John raises an eyebrow at Cas as Dean exchanges the empty yogurt cup for his pills and water.

"Where were you when I was force feeding him mushed peas?"

"Probably refusing my own mushed peas." Cas deadpans. He takes the cup back from Dean and helps him lay back in bed. He pulls up the blanket and kisses Dean's forehead before adding, "Have you ever eaten warm, mushed peas? Gross."

John bends at the waist and laughs. "Oh Dean, you have a keeper with this one. Cas you will hold your own against Bobby."

"That'll be a fun day, indeed," Dean smiles as he watches Cas refill his water.

John is still laughing when the a loud "Grandpa!" bellows through the room.

Malachi hurls himself at John's waist as he stands, forcing an "umph" sound from him. "Grandpa?" He growls. "I know no such person. And who are you?"

"Grandpa!" Mal giggles as John hoists him up into his arms. The resemblance between Dean and his father is not lost on Cas.

"Hey, Dad! What a nice surprise!" Sam cries with a wide grin.

"Surprise indeed, I awoke this morning to find a stranger sleeping in my room." Cas smiles at John so he knows he's only kidding.

"Sorry about that," he pauses to hug Sam and Eileen. He sets Mal down, freeing his hands up in order to include his daughter in the conversation. "There was a truck that needed to be finished before I could leave. I didn't arrive until after three and you both looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you."

Castiel looks at Dean uneasily, the idea of John walking in and seeing them in bed together may make Dean uncomfortable. It doesn't though, in fact, Castiel seems to be the only one sparing a second thought to John's comment.  

Cas wonders if he will ever cease to be amazed at the number of people who, not only accept, but embrace his true self.

@@@@@

Between the medication and being surrounded by loved ones, Dean is able to relax and even takes a lap around the hallway.

As they're finishing up lunch, Rowena walks in. "I have your walking papers, Dean."

Dean fist pump the air. "Goodbye dreary room."

Sam loads up his car with the flowers and gifts that have accumulated while Dean and Castiel receive discharge instructions. 

"Dean? What's wrong?" Rowena has bid her goodbyes and Dean is standing in his room surrounded by his family, and yet, he looks lost.

"I don't know where I'm supposed to go." He slowly raises his face to look at Castiel.

"Oh," relief washes over Castiel. 

"Cas figured you would want to go to your house." Sam explains.

"Mal and I set you up yesterday while we were waiting for the green light to visit." Eileen tells him.

"My apartment is ready in case you need a few days before riding in the car that long," Castiel adds.

Dean stares at Cas and worry starts to seep in that maybe Dean doesn't want him at his house just yet. 

"If you'd rather recuperate with Sam I-" 

Dean rushes forward, captures Castiel's face and kisses him deeply...in front of his entire family. He doesn't pull back until someone whistles. 

That someone turns out to be John. 

"You'd be willing to drop everything and go to my house?"

Cas blinks. "Well, ya." He doesn't understand how Dean views this as such a sacrifice. "I go where you go, Dean. My home is wherever you are."

"So what're we waiting for? Let's take Uncle Dean home, I still haven't gotten my chance to beat him at Mario Kart!"

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Mal. Dean, let's go home." Castiel takes Dean's hand and leads out of the dreary hospital room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Griffen Munroe is the character Matt Cohen plays on General Hospital.
> 
> One more chapter to go!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All good things must come to an end.

"I guess the 45 minute drive wasn't a problem after all."

Castiel smiles at Dean as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

"Guess not." He winces as a sharp pain zings through his side. He straightens in his seat. "I was hit with this wall of fatigue and I couldn't keep my eyes open."

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees Cas lean in for what he assumes is a kiss on the cheek. He surprises Cas by turning his head at the last second, joining their mouths. "Hmmm, my favorite way to wake up, Angel."

Cas pulls back slightly. "I can't imagine why you'd be so tired. It's not like you've had anything major happen in the last few days."

Dean smirks and kisses Cas again. His smartass reply it cut off by a sharp rapping at his window. 

While clutching an armload of gifts,  Eileen's hands speak briefly. 

"What did she say?" Cas asks as Dean laughs and opens his door.

"Make out later, time to get you in the house."

"Yes, ma'am." Cas laughs as he opens his own door and retrieves Dean's duffle and his suitcase from the trunk.

Castiel joins Dean as he stands in front of his house, gazing up at it. 

"You have a nice home, Dean."

"It's small and needs so much work but I really love it. I want to scrape the old paint off, it kind of makes the place look more delapitated then it is. It needs a fresh look but the intended color hasn't come to me yet."

Castiel studies the small cottage style house. The front door is flanked by beautiful bay windows on each side. Skirting under the windows is a row of azaleas bushes. They're currently bare, having finished their fall bloom but in the spring, they provide a beautiful pallette of color.

"I don't know, Dean, I think you're seeing more flaws than I do." He pauses "The tan and dark brown trim is nice but it doesn't feel like you." He tilts his head. "I see bright white with green trim."

Dean's eyes glimmer as he glances at Cas. "I want to show you the rest."

Cas nods his head. "Please, show me your home, Dean."

Dean leads Castiel through the front door and steps aside, allowing him the full view. The front half of the house is one large open space. To the left is a dining area. There's a small oval table surrounded by six tall backed chairs. Against the wall is a floor to ceiling hutch filled with family photos and fine China.

To the right is a family room. A large, sectional couch and two recliners are placed in a semi circle around an entertainment center. Under the bay window is a built in seat, the cushion is covered in a burgundy and grey material. The cream color on the walls off set the rich Expresso brown of the wood floors running throughout the house.

"Let me take those from you." Castiel blinks as Sam and John emerge from, what appears to be, the kitchen, and pulls the bags from Castiel's grip.

"Dean, this is beautiful. You did all this?"

Dean leans against the back of the couch, clutching his side. "For the most part yes, although Sam and my Dad helped me replace the wood flooring and Eileen gave me some decorating pointers."

"The floors were quite a feat but it was worth it." John helps Dean out of his coat and gestures to Cas to hand him his. "It really changed the whole feel of the place." He hangs their jackets in a closet. "Dean, why don't you sit?" The love in his gruff voice is evident.

"I will but I want to show Cas around first. My legs need a stretch."

Mal drops down into a Ninja Turtles bean bag chair in front of the tv and reaches for the remote. 

"We aren't staying long, Buddy."

"Ok." Malachi answers his father without looking at him. 

Eileen hands Dean a glass of water and drops two tablets into his open palm. "Do you need food with those?"

He smiles at her gratefully after swallowing the antibiotic and pain medications. "No, I'm still good from lunch. Thanks." He squeezes her arm before turning to Castiel.

"Come on, Babe. Don't be shy, move out of the entryway and I'll show you the rest."

They follow Dean down the hall towards the kitchen.

"What smells so good?" Castiel asks, inhaling deeply.

"Oooh, is that Eileen's pot roast?" Dean cries as he lifts the lid of the crock pot on counter. "Score!" Cas leans over his shoulder and they peek into the pot together.  "That looks heavenly," Dean tells Eileen after replacing the cover.

"I didn't think either of you would feel like cooking. There are a few more things in your freezer to get you through the week." 

"Geez, maybe I should stay here." John teases.

"Don't worry, I took care of all my guys. There's a roast waiting at our house." 

"How did you two get so lucky?" John asks Dean and Sam as he lays a hand on Eileen and Castiel's shoulders.

"Got me," they both say.

Castiel walks around the small kitchen. The u-shaped counter holds a stove, fridge, dishwasher, microwave and breakfast bar. On the opposite side of the bar is a small round table with four chairs.

"Dean, hearing your description I kept picturing a run down old farm house. I don't know what you mean by, 'it needs work'."

Castiel pulls his gaze away from the backyard, complete with playset and a beautiful deck. 

"There's plenty to do, I'll show you. I'd take you down to the basement but I don't think I can manage the stairs right now." He absentmindedly lays a hand on his side. "It's unfinished right now but my plan is to make it a full media room. Big screen, movie chairs, popcorn machine. The whole deal."

They follow Dean as he back tracks out of the kitchen. They pass the coat closet on the right and turn down a hallway to the left. John, Sam and Eileen join Mal in the living room.

"The bedrooms are pretty bare right now, I haven't decided what to do with them." 

Cas ducks his head into the room on the right. The walls are white and aside from a single desk, the room is empty.

"This is the guest room, or more accurate, Mal's." Dean gestures to the second room. This one holds a dresser and a queen sized bed covered in a Ninja Turtles comforter.

"I'm picking up a theme," he gestures to the turtle blanket.

Dean snorts. "Wait until you see his room at home. Filled with turtles and tortoises." 

"I'm betting the two of you have had a few slumber parties."

"As many and as often as we're able," Dean says with a soft smile. 

"I noticed the play set out back. Did that come with the house?"

Dean shakes his head. "That was my Christmas present to him last year. We have plans to build a tree house in the big oak out there." He sighs. "Just one of the many items on my to do list."

"Dean," Cas says as he crosses the hall to another bedroom, "you should be proud of wh- wow." He stops in his tracks, admiring the master bedroom.

The four poster bed sits prominently in the middle of the room. Cas runs a hand over the brown and teal bedspread. 

Dean's dresser matches the dark maple color and carvings of the high, ornate headboard.

Just like the living and dining rooms, there's a large area rug sitting under the bed. The walls are a light cocoa color.

Cas peeks in at the small bathroom as Dean explains. "I have plans to replace the shower and vanity. The bathroom in the hall is earmarked for a double wide whirlpool tub."

"Oh my God, Dean!"

Dean is startled and rushes to Cas' side. "What?" He's moved on to a wall of photos near the window. "Oh, yeah," he laughs shyly.

Castiel is staring, mouth hanging open, at a picture of a younger Dean straight out of the academy. His dress blues crisp, hat tucked under his arm.

Castiel let's out a long whistle. "Please tell me you still wear a uniform."

Dean blushes. "Yeah, I do. When I'm not undercover that is."

"Mmm-mm," he hums.

"Dean, we're heading out," Sam calls from down the hall.

Dean gives Cas a quick peck on the lips, links their fingers and leads him down the hall. 

 

"Are you hungry?" Dean asks, leaning against the front door.

Castiel waves to Dean's family as they pull away from the curb. "No, not really." He eyes Dean wearily. "I could use a nap though," he fibs.

"Seems like that's all I've doing is sleeping."

"Thats your only job right now, Dean. Eat, sleep, heal and on occasion, kiss me." 

"Kiss you, huh?" He pushes off the door, walks towards Cas and slips his fingers just inside the waistband of his jeans. "I think I'm overdue." He leans in to kiss Cas but instead, a yawn escapes. He drops his head onto Cas's chest. "Smooth, Winchester."

Cas chuckles. "Why don't you throw in a movie and we can try out this couch? Or I could read to you. I trust you have the next _Gunslinger_ installment?"

Dean's eyes grow wide before he heads towards his bedroom. He returns with the fourth book in the series. They arrange themselves on the couch, tucked close together under a blanket. 

Cas makes it halfway through the first chapter before setting the book aside and snuggling down with his sleeping mate. 

 

@@@@@

"Cas, I told you, you look great. Now let's go before we're late."

Castiel is standing in front of the bathroom mirror, combing his hair for the third time after changing his shirt for the fourth time. "But Dean, ugh! I swear it has a mind of its own," he mutters to himself.

Dean approaches him from behind, laying his chin on his shoulder. He speaks to Cas's reflection. "I don't know what you're so nervous about, you've already met everyone and I think most of them like you more then me anyway."

Cas grimaces. "I haven't met everyone."

"Oh, so this is about Bobby? Babe you have nothing to worry about. Just remember he's an old softy. His bark is loud but that's as far as it goes. Bobby is good people, he cuts through bullshit with the best of them....kind of like someone else I know." He looks Cas pointedly in the eye before kissing his neck. 

"Come on, Babe. I have many things to be thankful for this year."

"As do I, namely this being my first real family holiday."

Dean slaps Cas on the behind. "Then let's make it a good one."

 

"Dean! I don't think you made nearly enough pies!" Eileen signs before taking the box top holding three tin foil wrapped pans.

"No worries, there're more where these came from."

"Dean, even I know she was being sarcastic." Castiel pipes up as he carries in a box top with another three more pans. 

John smirks at Cas as he accepts the box and a handshake hello. 

"I know that, Cas. I'm not that oblivious."

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Dean." Cas chastises to Dean's back on a smile.

"Looks like you finally found someone who doesn't put up with your bullshit, Dean."

"Ellen!" Dean pulls Ellen into a hug. "So good to see you."

"You too Dean. Now, prove to me you still remember the manners I taught you and introduce me."

Dean's smile is beaming, eyes sparkling, "Castiel, please meet my Aunt Ellen," he looks up over Ellen's shoulder, "and my Uncle Bobby."

Castiel offers his hand, "Dean has told me many wonderful things about you, Mrs. Singer and you as well, Mr. Singer, Sir."

Ellen ignores Cas' hand and pulls him into a hug. "Please, call me Ellen."

Bobby stands in front of Cas, silently scrutinizing him.

Dean swells with pride as Castiel straightens his shoulders and waits patiently. Face neutral.

"Do you play Poker, boy?"

The corner of Cas mouth twitches."Yes, Sir."

"Good cause I need a challenge. Dean may be a real hard ass with the criminals but when it comes to playing poker, he's easier to read then a _Dick and Jane_ reader."

"Hey, I resent that!"

"You need to learn to admit defeat, Dean." Sam slaps him on the shoulder."Now, who needs a drink?"

"Uncle Cas?" Everyone turns to look at Malachi. "What to see my room?" he asks tentatively, hiding behind his mom's arm. 

Surprised by his nephew's sudden quiet demeanor, Dean crouches in front of Mal. "I don't even get a hug? I've already been replaced by Uncle Cas?" he teases.

Mal's big brown eyes grow wide and fill with tears as he wraps his arms around Dean's neck. "Never, Uncle Dean!"

Dean hugs him tightly and looks up at Eileen, the unasked question on his face.

She silently signs behind her son's back. "He's still pretty shook up about you getting hurt." 

He signs "thank you" before addressing Mal. "I can't say I blame you, Little Man. Cas is pretty fantastic." 

"I would be honored to see your room," Cas tells him with a hand to his bony little back. "Your Uncle Dean tells me you have quite an impressive turtle and tortoise collection."

Castiel has said the magic word, 'turtle' because in an instant he's pushing off Dean and reaching for Cas's hand. "Come on, I'll show you." 

"You've lost him now, Dean. He won't be out for days," John says on a snicker.

"I'll save you a plate." Dean yells down the hall.

 

"Fine job on the turkey, son," Bobby tells Sam.

They all chime in with their agreements, adding an extra thanks to Eileen as well.

Dean is sitting back in his chair as his phone rings.

"Really, Dean?" Ellen asks. 

Dean pulls his phone out and glances at it. "I've already ignored two calls, something must be up. Excuse me."

He gets up and moves to the other side of the room to take the call. 

He returns to the table, moments later, phone still clutched in his hand.

"Uh, well, that was Captain Turner." He slowly tucks his phone back into his front pocket. 

"Everything ok?" Sam asks tentatively.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine."

"Well spit it out, boy we ain't got all day," Bobby tells him incredulously.

Cas scoots to the front of his chair, seeming to debate wether he should remain seated or stand with Dean in support. He chooses to remain seated but he does cover Dean's hand with his own where it lays on the back of his chair.

"He said that Metatron has struck a deal with the District Attorney. He'll serve a 30 year sentence in a minimum security prison. No chance of parole."

"So, no trial? That's good, right?" Ellen asks.

"Yeah, that's a good thing. Cas and I won't have to testify now. It's done...I guess." His right arm crosses over his body, coming to rest on his left side.

"Good, sounds like a reason to celebrate with pie," Eileen states as she gets up to retrieve dessert. 

"I'm good for now. I think I'm going to step outside for some fresh air." Dean turns from the table and grabs his coat before stepping out the front door.

He enters the garage and pulls off Baby's dust cover. He slides in behind the wheel. "Guess what, you're coming home. I've missed you."

"Have I lost you already, Dean?" Castiel's face appears at the passenger side window. 

"Hey Cas. Come on in, I'd like to introduce you to my Baby."

Cas climbs in and runs his hand over the front dash. "She is beautiful. I have to say though, it kind of hurts you call us both Baby." He looks at Dean sideways with a fake pout.

He laughs softly. "I guess I really put myself in a pickle, haven't I?"

Cas pats Dean's hand where it lays on the leather bench seat between them. "Don't worry, I know there's room enough in your heart for both of us."

"Thanks, man."

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I don't know, it's just a lot to take in."

"I think it's good."

"I do too, really I do. 30 years isn't a drop in the bucket compared to the crimes he's committed but at his age, he'll never get out."

"You should be proud, Dean. I know I'm proud of you. Your first undercover case was a huge success and you played a big part in that."

"First and last case."

"What do you mean?"

"I told Captain Turner this just wasn't a right fit for me."

"Are you sure? I for one thought you were very good. You had me fooled. I'm sorry," he says when Dean winces, "I don't mean that in a bad way. I mean, you're good at your job."

"It's not for me, I've never been one to hide who I am or change for other people so this whole pretending to be someone else is too difficult. I would much rather go back to being a uniformed officer on patrol. It's what I'm really good at."

"Then that's what you should do." He squeezes Dean's hand. "Mick sent me a text. He wanted to make sure we heard the news. Turns out there's an interested party in purchasing the bar."

"That's good, maybe they'll keep the staff on. Speaking of, what's next for you, Cas? Do you want to return to the bar?"

He shrugs. "Maybe for a bit. I was thinking maybe of going back to school. I'm only a semester short of my degree."

"Oh yeah? That's great! I didn't know that. What degree?"

"Promise not to laugh?"

Dean furrows his eyebrows. "I would never."

"Accounting."

Dean nods his head. "Makes sense. Numbers are cut and dry. Vast opportunities to work alone. Sounds perfect for you."

Cas tilts his head at Dean and arches one eyebrow.

"What?" 

"Sometimes I think you know me better then myself."

"What can I say, you fascinate me, Babe."

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment before Castiel speaks up. "So Dean, the lease on my apartment is up at the end of December. Your place is closer to campus so I was wondering if you knew of any apartment buildings near you."

"Oh, I suppose there're a few." He says slowly, taking a hold of Castiel's hand. "But... I thought, maybe I was wrong in assuming, but I thought you were moving in....with me. But if you'd rather keep your own place, I guess..."

"No, no, Dean! I want to be with you." He places a hand over his chest, the tendons sticking out of his neck. "I didn't want to assume that's where you wanted me. Of course, I want be with you."

"Jesus, Cas, way to give me a heart attack. Good, I'm glad that's settled."

"Let's go back in, Dean. Ellen said she was going to save you some pie."

Dean's eyes light up as he shoots out of the car. He stops by the front bumper and looks back at Cas who's still in the car. "What're you waiting for?"

Cas shakes his head as he climbs out and takes Dean's hand, allowing him to lead him back to his waiting pastry.

 

@@@@@

"Thanks for breakfast, Dean. That was an impressive spread." 

It's the Sunday following Thanksgiving and the two are enjoying a quiet morning on the deck.

"It was the least I could do, you've been taking such good care of me."

"You would do the same for me. Oh, I never told you about Mick."

The previous day, Cas had gone to the bar to help Mick before going to his aprtment to pack a few boxes while Dean stayed behind to spend time with Malachi.

"Remember that interested party?"

 Dean nods, biting into the last piece of bacon.

"Turns out, it's him."

"Oh yeah! That's pretty awesome!"

Cas nods as he takes a drink of coffee. "He isn't sure how much time he'll need to wait or what kind of red tape he'll have to wade through but the lawyer he spoke to was optimistic. According to Metatron, he never used _Capone's_ for anything other then a legal means of income and from what the authorities can see, he's telling the truth."

"That's really great."

"When I told him about me registering for school he told me to count on him as a client. After all, I was the one to set up and at times, run the books."

"You know, I bet Bobby would hire you as a consultant. The books at his place are archaic."

"I also signed up for an ASL class. I know I can take it on line like you did and Eileen has taught me so much already but I thought, what the hell. Might as well earn a few credits."

Dean gets up from his chair, kisses Cas then sits back down. "I love you."

He looks like, "what did I miss?" before telling him he loves him too. 

"Dean?" 

"Yeah, Cas?"

Castiel doesn't answer right away, he appears lost in thought while looking out over the back yard. "Have you thought about having kids, Dean?"

Dean has plenty of times but he isn't sure where Cas stands on the issue so in place of the truth he asks, "Have you?"

"It's always been a non issue for me. I honestly thought I'd spend the entirety of my life alone."

"Jesus, Cas, don't break my heart."

Castiel finally turns to look at his lover. "I don't say that as a negative, it was just....just the way it was."

"I sense a but..."

"But now... Now I've fallen in love with a little boy with big brown eyes and an impressive amount of knowledge of Sea turtles. And I think about the baby that has yet to arrive and....and I've never wanted anything more. I want that with you, Dean."

"Me too, Cas. Me too. I say we fill up the house!"

Cas laughs. "We'll have that discussion on another day. How about today, we talk about today?"

"Do you mean, like what we should do today?"

"Yes," he reaches across the table, linking their fingers. "You seem to be feeling pretty good, what would you like to do? When you think about it we've only been together two months and most of that time has been spent working."

Dean thinks a moment. "We could go to Navy Pier. Fill up on fried food."

"Is it even open this time of year?" 

"I dunno but even if it's not, we could walk along the water."

Castiel nods. "Works for me."

@@@@@

Turns out, Mother Nature had other plans for this November day in Illinois. As the two are getting ready to leave, big fat snowflakes begin to fall from the sky.

They stand in the doorway, contemplating how quickly it's begun to accumulate in the short amount of time and the howl of the wind in the distance.

Dean turns to Cas. "Netflix?"

"I'll make the popcorn."

 

@@@@@

"What's going on under all that hair, Babe? I can hear your gears turning."

The tv is silent as they as they lounge in their bed. Dean's sitting against his headboard with Cas draped over his thigh and chest. His hand is currently under Dean's shirt, idly tracing his rapidly healing wound.

Castiel exhales softly and flips onto his back, staring at the ceiling. 

"Cas?" Dean scoots his hip down, propping his head on the palm of his hand. 

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"Cas, I thought that was one of the advantages of being with a guy. I don't have to play the 'I say I'm fine but really I want you to read my mind' game."

Castiel snorts and rolls onto his hip, mirroring Dean's position. He kisses Dean lightly on the forehead, cheek and mouth.

"I'm not going to stop you but all you are doing is delaying. I'm a cop, I don't easily forget."

Cas studies a spot on the wall behind Dean. "I wonder how long it'll be before I no longer have the same image set on repeat every time I close my eyes."

"I would imagine," Dean says quietly, "just as long as my own broken record plays. I also imagine they'll fade with time."

Castiel reaches over and moves the corner of Dean's T-shirt up, exposing his wound. He watches his fingers intently as he traces the faint line and mustard yellow bruising.

"When I spoke to my Captain yesterday, he reminded me it wouldn't be a bad idea to consider talking to someone. Maybe we could go together."

"Maybe," he mumbles as he leans down to kiss along the path of his fingers. Dean runs his fingers through Cas's hair. "I'm here, Baby. I'm ok. I'm not going anywhere."

"What about next time?" His whisper is barely audible as he lays his cheek against Dean's side. He closes his eyes, forcing a tear to run down his face. 

It takes Dean feeling the dampness on his skin for the lightbulb to go off over his head. 

When he was with Cassie, Dean was still in the academy. With James, they were on equal footing, both wearing the uniform. The second nature of living with the day to day risk isn't what Castiel is used to. Up until a few weeks ago, he was under the impression the man he's in love with was a bartender, not a man of the law who took an oath to serve and protect others. 

"Cas."

Cas shakes his head, "No, I know I'm being irrational. I didn't want to burden you with my fears." He sits up, keeping his back to Dean. 

"Castiel." He sits up and places a hand on his lover's tense shoulders. He can feel the violent tremors vibrate through his fingers.

Outside, the once peaceful snow fall has progressed into a white wash, constantly shifting with the ever increasing tenacity of the howling wind. 

"Every time I close my eyes I see you hitting the ground. So much blood," he whispers. 

Dean pulls him onto his chest, holding him as tightly as his still tender wound would allow. "I watched as the light faded from your eyes and there wasn't a fucking thing I could do to help you." Castiel's hands claw at Dean's back as his body quakes with his sobs.

Dean rocks him gently, kissing his head and face, rubbing his arms and back. He doesn't speak, just holds him. His own tears falling into Castiel's hair. 

"Castiel, I'm sorry you've been blindsided with this part of my life. Your fear is not irrational, it's a legitimate risk I take every day."

He pulls Castiel away from his chest and wipes at his wet face. "I don't say that to scare you more, I say that because I can't suger coat it. If you need me to leave," his voice breaks and he hangs his head down for a moment. He starts again with a clear voice. "If you need me to, I will leave that part of my life behind. Without hesitation. If it means taking your pain away, I will."

"Dean I d-"

"I will leave it behind, but Cas, that isn't a guarantee I won't die of heart disease or be hit by a fucking drunk driver on my way home from work. My mother was a _nurse_ , Cas." 

Now the tears are streaming down Dean's face. "You know what keeps running through my head?" Not being stabbed. It's the pain in your eyes. You say you couldn't help me? You did Castiel. I really thought I was a goner but a part of me thought, if it's my time at least I was here long enough to know you." 

"Dean"

"Don't get me wrong, I wasn't giving up because Dean Winchester does not go down without a fight but if they were playing my song, at least I was with you. My only regret was we had so little time."

He grips Cas's face in his palms. "I don't want to waste what time we have on living in fear. We could have one week or we could have another sixty years together. If it's one week, you can be sure I'm going through those gates swinging because I think you're going to be one hot fucking 90-year-old." 

Dean hits his goal when Cas laughs through his tears. "Insatiable."

"Only for you." Dean pulls Castiel up and kisses him roughly. They both have tear soaked cheeks and probably snot running from their noses but neither of them give a shit. The only thing they care about is the fact they're in the moment together.

Dean pulls Castiel down slowly until they're stretched out on the bed, laying face to face. He pulls his shirt off and gently wipes first Cas's face and then his own. "'How's that for a little romance?"

Castiel smiles, dropping his head against Dean's. "I love you Dean." 

"Love you too, Cas." He lets out a breathy moan. "Cas?"

"What is it, Dean?"

"Make love to me."

"Oh God, Dean we can't. You're still healing and I don't trust myself, I know I'll lose myself and I won't remember to keep my weight off you."

"Cas, please. I'm fine. My appointment is tomorrow and I haven't even taken Ibuprofen in four days." 

"Dean, I just don't think-."

"Then let me make love to you. Cas all I know is, I feel like I've been shattered into a million pieces and you're the only one who can put me back together. Please, I need you in me or around me. I just need you close."

Dean stares up into Cas's face, silently pleading. Knowing the longing he feels is rolling just as violently through Castiel.

"Promise me you'll tell me if you feel ANY pain or discomfort? Promise?"

"Promise," he tells him seriously before rolling them over and placing his full weight over Castiel.

They both groan as their cocks rub together. The time since their quick romp on Cas's couch feels like a lifetime ago.

"Jesus, Dean, I honestly don't know," his fingers claw at the flesh of Dean's back as he grinds down hard, "fuck, how long I will last. It's been-"

"Too long, I know. Baby," Dean kisses up Cas's neck, "you better start thinking something unpleasant then because," he nips at his lower lip, "this is going to take a while." He covers Cas's mouth while his hands move to his hair and neck.

"I need you undressed." Dean gets up and rummages through the top drawer of his dresser. He returns to the bed and tosses the purple topped bottle onto his pillow.

Dean clutches at his chest, taking in the sight of Castiel spread out on his bed. His knees are slightly bent, feet flat. "Jesus, Cas. I can't breathe. You're a fucking work of art. How did I ever find you?" 

He resists the urge to pounce and instead approaches the bed as a lion on the prowl. He slowly walks to the end of the bed, keeping eye contact with Castiel.

He crouches at the end of the bed and runs his flat palms over Cas's ankles and up his calves, then back down again. Marveling over the way his leg hair brushes against his skin. He wraps his hands around Cas's left foot, pressing his thumb firmly into his arch, rubbing small circles.

"That's nice," Cas sighs softly. 

Dean leans down and kisses over his ankle bone before repeating his actions with the right foot. He lays a trail of soft kisses and licks up each calf and inner thigh while his hands rub and squeeze ahead of his mouth.

"Oh Cas, my beautiful Angel." He slips his own pants off before climbing onto the bed.

The farther up Dean goes, the wider Cas spreads his thighs, offering himself up completely to the man he loves. The man he trusts with his heart and with his life.

Cas's hands, with their long slender fingers, begin to rub up and down over his own thighs. His hips rocking, just a bit.

He exhales out, "Dean." 

Dean flicks his eyes upward just in time to see Castiel's eyes fall closed and his cheeks flush.  

On a growl, Dean latches onto his right hip bone and sucks hard. As Cas bucks under his mouth he brings his hand to the left side and runs his thumb along the crease of his upper thigh, wrapping his fingers around the neglected hip. 

Satisfied with the color change of the skin stretched tight over the bone he kisses down the crease that merges body with thigh then darts his tongue just under Cas's sac. He pauses to nuzzle the tip of his nose against the pebbled skin before moving on, making Cas gasp. 

He licks along the crease on the left side, making his way to his intended mark, sucking just as hard.

Dean rides the movements of Cas's hips, smiling against his skin. The smile morphs into a loud moan when Cas fists his hair. 

"Like it when I mark up those gorgeous hips of yours, Baby?"

"All of it. I l-love all of your touch. Feel like I'm on fire."

"You are Baby, you're smokin' hot." He moves on to Cas's abdomen, pushing his hands under his thighs to slide up his ass, pulling his naval closer to his mouth. He runs his flat tongue over his belly button then blows a warm puff of air, watching his spit dry before his eyes.

"Dean, Dean, do that again. So good, Dean."

"Mmm, you taste so good." He licks again, pausing to nibble at the thin skin before blowing another puff of air. Cas arches his back, pressing down onto Dean's hands where they squeeze at his ass cheeks. His thighs come together around Dean's rib cage, the sudden pressure makes Dean wince slightly but not enough to stop.

Cas's cock presses lightly at Dean's throat as he licks at his belly button. He can feel the precome sliding against his adams apple. He moans deeply, sending vibrations through the throbbing head, causing Cas to thrust upward again, seeking more of the sensation.

On a sharp inhale, Dean slides up and captures a nipple between his teeth. In the same instant he rolls the other between this fingers.

Moving up further to reach his collar bone, their hips are aligned, allowing him the freedom to grind down, slotting their cocks together.

The sudden attention to Dean's dick has him seeing starbursts behind his lids.

Bypassing his neck, Dean takes a moment to soak in the sight below him. Castiel's hands are roaming over Dean's back and ass but he hardly notices because he's transfixed on his lover's face.

Dean runs two fingers through the cowlick at Cas's hairline, following through to the back of his head, adding the remaining three as he goes. 

His face is flushed, his hips rocking ever so gently against Dean and his kiss swollen lips spread into a smile as he opens his eyes. 

"Feeling okay?" Castiel asks when Dean's hips still.

"I could look at you for an eternity and it wouldn't be enough to satisfy me."

"That's because you're ins-" 

Dean locks his mouth onto Cas's, cutting him off. "I think you need to turn over now, I'm not done getting my fill."

Dean moves off Cas, slipping a hand on his hip, he skims it along his ass as Cas rolls to his stomach. 

Dean grabs the bottle from his pillow, pops the top and sets it close at hand. He knee steps over Cas's calf, nudging his thighs apart as he fills the void.

Sitting back on his haunches, he admires Castiel's toned calves, running his hands straight up towards his ass. Dean fills his hands, squeezes him with a groan then moves up towards his rippling back. 

The streetlight streams through the window, shadows of the slowing snowfall dancing across his back. Castiel moves his arms up to prop his head and Dean watches, panting a bit, as his skin dances over his shoulder blades with the movement.

Dean moves to his knees again and bends at the waist. He encircles his arms around Cas's rib cage, burying his face in his neck, he inhales deeply. On the exhale, he moans Cas's name. "Thank you for being you." In answer Cas pushes back, rubbing his ass against Dean's dripping cock.

"Oh no, we can't have that." He grabs himself at the base and moves off Cas's body. Leaving his lover whimpering and pressing down into the mattress.

Dean pulls gently at Cas's hips, he understands the direction and slides his knees under his body and props his torso on his bent elbows.

"Oh Cas, the things I want to do for you." He gently kisses each cheek then spreads them with his thumbs, digging his fingers in deep enough to bruise.

He watches as Castiel's pink puckered hole winks under the attention. "Hmm, you know what, Baby? I think I know why you like me me licking your belly button so much."

"Because I'm weird?" Castiel says tentatively and the small comment makes Dean's heart crack just a little.

He smacks lightly at Cas's ass cheek then kisses the same spot immediately. "What did I tell you about that? Baby, I think," he continues to purr as he spreads his flesh wide, "you like it because..." Dean runs his flat tongue from the base of Cas's sac to the top of his entrance, making sure to let the saliva run down his tongue as he goes. Dean anticipates Cas rocking back, closer to his face and he moves along with him. He pulls back and blows air across his wet trail. He does it again, humming over the satisfying sounds coming from Cas. This time he dips his tongue into his hole as he passes over, pulling at the ring of muscle. Dean blows again. "Mmm, one of these days I want you to come on my tongue. Think you could do that for me, Angel?"

Castiel rocks back with his hips and drops his head between his elbows. He lets out a long, low moan that runs straight to Dean's dick. 

Dean utters a loud oath and grabs himself at the base again. "You'll be my undoing, yet."

Dean returns to lapping at Cas'S hole, pausing only long enough to lube his fingers. Using one hand he spreads a cheek while the other slips a finger under his probing tongue.

"Deeean," Castiel keens.

"Oh Angel, if only you could see this. If only you could," he impales him with his tongue, pushing in as far as he's able, "if only you could taste this." He adds another finger, pleased with how well Cas opens up for him.

"Do you remember that day in the shower?" He kisses his cheek while his fingers scissor open. "I sure do. I remember how gorgeous you were, just like now. Water dripping down your face," he pumps his fingers in and out, searching, "your voice echoing all around us as you chanted my name." 

He crooks his fingers and Cas arches his back, calling out to Dean. He strokes it again, slipping a hand around Cas's waist. He grabs Cas at the base of his throbbing cock, squeezing firmly, he hits his prostate again.

Dean pulls out enough to add a little more slick before sliding in a third finger. "Are you ready for me, Angel? Are you ready to spread yourself around me?" He rubs his cock against Cas's trembling thigh and moans right along with him. 

"Lie down, Baby. I want to make you feel good."

Cas lies down while Dean palms the bottle. As he moves over Cas, he starts to sit up, an intense look on his face.

Worried Castiel may he having issues with past demons he asks, "Everything ok, Ba-"

"Dean, Dean can I touch you?"

Dean exhales forcefully and relaxes. "Of course, you never have to ask. Just be warned, I may shoot off like a rocket unexpectedly."

Castiel pushes on Dean's chest until his's lying on his back. He braces himself, expecting Cas to stroke his cock because that's what he _wants_. Instead, Cas touches him where he _needs_ it the most.

Cas rubs his palms in wide circles over Dean's chest, down his arms then back up again. His touch gets lighter as he moves over his abdomen. 

Bending at the waist, Cas kisses along the faint line, indicating a past break in the skin. His featherlight kisses send shock waves through the surface of Dean's skin and he's unable to suppress the shiver that rolls through his body.

Cas lifts his head, brows furrowed. "You okay?"

Dean runs his fingers through Cas's hair and smiles, the skin around his eyes crinkling. "Never better."

Cas leans down and kisses at the corners of Dean's eyes. "I wanted to do that the very first time you smiled at me." He runs a finger over the bridge of Dean's nose. "When I was waiting for you to wake up after....I would distract myself by counting your freckles."

"And how many are there?"

Cas lifts the corner of his mouth. "I don't know. I never finished, I was always distracted by your long eyelashes." He kisses each eye lid as they flutter close then open again. "Or your ears." He traces each ear before kissing them. "Or your lips." He traces the contours of Dean's pouty lips and dips the tip of his tongue into his cupid's bow. Smiling at the image that flashes before him, Dean doing his Elvis sneer while telling a story.  He licks teasingly across the seal but stops there. 

Moving down to Dean's chest he says, "Often I would just lie my head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat." He does this now, splaying his hand wide over his heart.

Castiel lifts his head to kiss Dean's mouth again, this time he includes his tongue. 

His lips move against Dean's as he speaks. "Make love to me Dean."

Dean rolls them both over on a snarl. Capturing Cas's face in his hands he continues the kiss Cas started while rutting unabashedly against his boyfriend.

On a sigh, he pushes to his knees, and uncaps the bottle still clutched in his palm. He drizzles a generous amount over his length, using the shock of the cold as a distraction.

He bends at the waist, bracing his weight on his hands, boxing in Cas's shoulders. "Promise me you'll tell me if you feel any pain or if..." he struggles with how to word his concerns.

Castiel understands. "It's just the two of us. Promise me the same." His hand dips down and runs along Dean's left side.

They agree on a kiss.

Pulling a part just enough to reach down between them, Dean snakes a hand below and guides himself to Castiel's entrance. He waits for his short nod before pressing forward.

Dean watches Castiel's face intently. Watches for signs of distress and watches for signs of pleasure. He is elated to see the former.

Dean's eyes slam shut as a wave of deep arousal surges through him. The feel of Castiel's tight tunnel enveloping him is overwhelming. He forces out short pants through his pursed lips as he pushes the remainder of the way in.

Needing to check on Cas he forces his eyes open. "Ok, Babe? Did I hurt you?"

Cas opens his own eyes and shakes his head. "Uh, slight burning but it's uh, really, ugh, g-good." His eyes widen, "I feel s-so full."

Dean smiles against Castiel mouth, "Just getting started." He kisses Castiel long and deep. His hips start rocking slowly in reaction to Cas pressing his heels into his back.

Cas raises his chin, opening the space of his neck. Dean's rhythm is slow and steady, their hips meeting in perfect synchronicity like they've done this dance countless times.

Dean sucks at Cas's pulse point and angles his hips. "Dean!" Cas's hands claw over and down Dean's back. Dean pivots and strikes his prostate again, groaning along with him when Cas squeezes his ass, his blunt fingernails digging in. 

Their faces remain close, resting foreheads occasionally as they pant against their mate, murmuring words of encouragement.

Dean's hands run down Castiel's arms, forcing them to the side as if he's spreading his wings. He runs his hands along the soft skin until their fingers link together. Tight in Castiel's grip Dean can feel the shattered pieces of their recent past converging together. "Cas, Cas, so perfect. My Angel, everything I've ever needed."

Sweeping their hands upward, near Cas's ears, Dean braces his weight on their joined limbs and rocks down hard. Castiel pushes back just as enthusiastically, his chest heaving. 

"Cas? Do you need me to...?"

"No!" He tightens his grip around the hand starting to pull away, "Just like this."

"Faster?"

"No. So perfect."

Thrust for thrust they meet in the middle. Not chasing the impending release, instead choosing to make this last and let the moment arrive when it's time.

"Deeean. Fuck!" 

Sweat is running down Dean's back. He lets go of Cas's hands in order to frame his face. "Castiel?" He gazes deep into the swirling Galaxies. Dean's breath stutters as he watches the pupils dilate wide on another stroke of his magic spot. "Are you with me?"

"Always," he pants "I'll follow you anywhere."

Dean moves one hand down to cup Castiel's neck, pulling him into an inflamed kiss. 

They swallow down the deep moans bubbling up their throats. Dean grasps behind Cas's knee, bending it slightly then curling it around his own hip. 

Castiel breaks from their kiss to let out a stream of incoherent words as he takes Dean deeper. 

Dean's hips stutter as he watches Castiel captures the tip of his tongue between his teeth because he knows what that means.

"Castiel," he draws out his lover's name, dropping his voice low. "Tell me how you feel." 

Cas's head presses against the pillow and his back bows, "Deean!" His voice rumbles as he comes hard between their pressed bodies. The warm come spurs Dean on.

"Oh God, Cas!" His movement ceases as his cock pulses deep inside Castiel.  

Cas's hips continue to rock, milking them through their intense orgasms. His hole clenching around Dean, never wanting to let him go.

Dean cover’s Castiel’s face and neck with wet, sloppy kisses, humming softly in the back of his throat even as his cock begins to soften and pull out.  “So beautiful. So perfect. So completely mine.” He murmurs against his skin.

“Dean,” Cas says softly. “Dean thank you.  That was the most intense thing I've ever experienced."

“Oh, my Angel, that was even more incredible for me. I should be thanking you, I could weep at how honored I feel.”

Castiel body stills at Dean’s words. “What? What'd I say?”  He searches Cas’s face for any signs of discomfort. 

“I’m fine, I uh, just realized why you were so upset that first time we were together.  You kept saying you didn’t want to hurt me.  I thought it was because I was so fucked in the head.”

“Don’t say that about yourself, Cas.”

Cas ignores him and continues. “But you were talking about-“

Dean places a finger over Cas’s mouth, cutting him off.  “I was but I don’t want to think about that right now.  We're good and I'll never, ever lie to you again. Ever.”

“I know, Dean.” He skims his hand down Dean’s left side. “How do you feel? Any pain?” 

“Absolutely perfect.”

They resume their kissing and running soft hands over each other’s skin. There's no beginning and there is no end, just one tangled web of limbs.  In the morning, they'll regret not taking the time to clean off but for now, they're both enjoying a peaceful night’s sleep.

One dreams of a dark-haired man with eyes the color of sapphires and a smile that shines brighter than the sun.  The other dreams of a man who’s smile reflects what he must have looked like as a young boy and who’s kindness has melted the hardest of hearts. Of eyes that change color with the blink of an eye and a laugh that hopefully, has no end.

 

**July**

"Novak, your time is up you little baby hog. Hand her over. She is my namesake, after all."

Castiel pulls the little cooing bundle closer to his chest. “Dean, she's named for her _grandmother_.” He turns his back on Dean and brings his lips next to her tiny little ear. "Don’t you worry, my sweet Deana, I’ll save you from that old grump.”

“Hey, Sa-am! Tell Castiel his time is up!”

Sam ignores his brother and speaks to Cas. "I think all of your guests are here and are mingling in the backyard."

Castiel and Dean glance first at each other and then at Sam. All joking aside, Cas hands Deana back to her dad with a nervous smile.

Sam nods once before heading off to find his wife.

@@@@@

Dean shades his eyes with his hand as he looks over the crowd gathered in their backyard. "Everyone here? Alicia, was there anyone in the house?" He calls up to the deck as she steps out.

"I didn't see anyone."

He joins Castiel under the shade of the oak tree, eliminating his need to squint. He surveys the yard one last time, he's amazed at their dumb luck. What are the chances of having a party where not one person is unable to attend? Dean feels a brief pang of hurt over the one person he's unable to see but knows is still present.

"Alright, well we just wanted to take this opportunity to thank every single one of you for being here. Each and every one of you hold a special place in our hearts and our lives. We thought a little summer party would be a great opportunity for you all to get to know each other a little more."

"Actually, Dean just wanted to show off his handy work on the house," Castiel cuts in.

"That's one sweet looking set up you have in the basement!" Benny calls over the crowd.

"Yeah, Cas isn't wrong. I am kind of proud of it."

"And that book wall is killer. You've _got_ to build me one of those!" Donna adds.

Dean looks at Cas and he nods once as they link hands.

"We have a confession to make, we did have ulterior motives for asking you all here. Charlie, Sam, Mick?" He nods to each of them after saying their names.

Charlie steps behind Castiel and Dean but in front of the trunk of the oak tree. Sam stands next to Dean and Mick takes his place next to Castiel.

Tricia, a friend of Eileen's who occasionally acts as an interpreter, steps up and to the side. Castiel didn't want Eileen to miss out on anything. Despite knowing ahead of time the plans for today, she's still surprised and touched by the forethought.

Realization starts to ripple through the crowd and the backyard erupts into cheers and whistles.

"For those of you who haven't figured it out yet," Castiel calls over the excited crowd, "Dean is giving me the honor of making an honest man out of him."

This results in more cheers and a few cat calls.

"Damn it, why didn't anyone warn me I was going to need to wear waterproof mascara?" Pamela sniffles.

"You all know we aren't one for a lot of pomp and circumstance. The only thing important to us is sharing our moment with all of you. So, if you would all bear with us for a short while, we have a few mushy things to say to each other before we break out the grub." Dean tells them, the blush already starting to creep up his cheeks. 

"For those of you who don't know me, I'm Charlie. I don't plan to say much, I'm just here to make it legal. Dean and Castiel have written their own vows. Dean?"

The two men face each other and link hands. They make a perfect picture, both looking casual in cargo shorts and t-shirts; Castiel's being light blue and Dean's a deep burgundy in color.

Dean studies Castiel's fingers for a moment before speaking. "Our paths collided less then a year ago. I know there was a time before you, Castiel, but for the life of me, I don't recall much of it. I never had any idea the depth of love one could feel for another human being. You've filled a large gaping hole in my heart.

Wanting to make you smile gives me reason to get up in the morning, memories of your laugh during our time apart motivates me to come home quickly and feeling your strong arms embrace me each night makes me chase sleep so I can share another day with you.

I love you more each day and I look forward to our life ahead. Expanding our home together,  sharing meals together, raising babies together," Dean laughs on an exhale over the squeals of delight, "and eventually, growing old together. Wherever life takes us, I want it to be right by your side; therefore, I take you, Castiel Novak as my husband."

Castiel wipes at his eyes then clears his throat before taking a hold of Dean's hand again. "I'm not sure how I can follow that but I'm going to try. As you know, I've spent most of my life navigating on my own. I'm not saying there haven't been a few special people who've tried bringing me into their circle." 

He pauses to glance over his shoulder at Mick. "Please know I appreciate your friendship." Mick pats Cass' shoulder as he turns back to Dean.

"When you go your whole life only having yourself to depend on, its difficult to allow yourself to trust others." Dean nods his head in agreement.

"That all changed when Dean Campbell aka Dean Winchester came crashing into my world," he tells the crowd before them. "I wasn't very nice to Dean the first few times we interacted."

"But that didn't stop you, Dean. You looked right through my rough exterior and saw directly into my soul. For the first time, someone was seeing _me_. I had someone I knew I could depend on. For the first time in my life I wasn't an 'I'. I was," he pauses as his voice breaks. He turns his face into his shoulder. He continues, voice still wavering, "For the first time, I was part of a 'we'. Not only did you open your heart to me, you brought with you an entire family.  A family that was there for me during one of the darkest days of my life and I was a complete stranger."

"Not true, Cas. You were never a stranger," Sam says softly over Dean's shoulder.

Castiel needs another moment to compose himself after glancing at the front row. Eileen, Malachi and John are all nodding their heads in agreement.

Dean whispers, "Look at me." 

Castiel does and a calm washes over him. Dean's long, damp lashes are surrounding bright green eyes that are pouring out love.

On a strong voice, Castiel finishes his wedding vows. "Dean, I vow to you to spend every day showering you with love and appreciation. No matter what I will do, it'll never compare to how you've changed my life but that doesn't mean I'll ever give up trying. I take you, Dean Winchester, as my husband, mate for life and best friend."

Dean leans in and gives Cas a chaste kiss. 

"Dean we haven't gotten to that part yet." Charlie teases him.

"Can you blame me? Look at him."

The crowd laughs through the sniffling as Charlie gestures to Malachi.

Mal approaches his uncles carrying a silver tray roughly the size of an envelope. Each man, first Dean and then Castiel, pluck a ring off the tray then hug Mal. He returns to his seat beside his mom, beaming with pride.

"The guys have given me the go ahead to share the story behind their rings." Charlie adds in a stage whisper, "Which is good because I would've told it anyway."

"Make it quick, I want to get to the kissing part." Castiel tells her.

"Yeah yeah, you're both beautiful creatures. Blah blah, I want the story," Eileen tells the grooms.

"Fine." Dean mockingly rolls his eyes as everyone laughs.

"So as Dean mentioned, by the time they shared their first Christmas together, they had only been together a few months. They exchanged their gifts at the family gathering. Once they got home, Dean reluctantly admitted to Cas he had another gift for him but he was afraid to give it to him because most people would say an appropriate amount of time hadn't passed yet."

"Most people ain't us." Bobby growls.

"That's what I said!" Castiel cries, his eyes wide and his brow creased in that way Dean finds irresistible.

"And then," Charlie continues, "Castiel admits he also had a second gift for Dean."

“You're making us sound like a Hallmark movie,” Dean tells her.

“Hey!” Fetch yells. “Nothing wrong with a good Hallmark movie.”

“I’ll second that,” Charlie tells him. “And you two, shhh, this is my story.  As I was saying, they each produce their gifts and wouldn’t you know, they're wrapped in the same sized box.”

Dean holds up a finger, ear leaning towards their officiant and friend.

"And it was the same ring!" she squeals.

Dean points at Charlie and grins wide. Soaking in the collective “Awww" that rises up.

“Dean, please present your gift to Castiel.”

Dean’s hand trembles slightly as he raises the titanium band etched with starbursts, to Castiel’s finger.  The trembling ceases the moment they make contact.  “Castiel, with this ring I thee wed.”  He pushes the ring effortlessly onto Cas’s finger.  “Aha! It fits,” he says triumphantly.

“Castiel, please present your gift to Dean.”

Castiel grips Dean’s fingers. “Dean, with this ring I sure as hell wed thee.”  Dean’s ring, also slides home. 

"By the state of Illinois, and the power vested in me by the fabulous thing called the inter-web, I now pronounce you spouses for life.”

The grooms hardly spare a glance at Charlie before they're in each other’s arms. 

Above the loud cheers Charlie cries, “It is my deepest pleasure to introduce Dean and Castiel Winchester!

The men beam as their loved ones’ rush forward.  Sam and John beat out everyone as they wrap Dean into a bear hug while Eileen envelopes Castiel in a one armed hug, Deana tucked into the other arm.

“You and I need to stick together. These Winchester boys are a handful.”

He only needs to start over once but Castiel manages to sign his reply. “Thank you for your unconditional love and immediate warm welcome.  You have a beautiful family and I am so grateful to now be a part of it. You should also know, I plan to spoil Deana and Mal rotten.”

“Just remember, turnabout is fair play.  I predict it won’t be long before those spare rooms are occupied.” 

"Let's hope so," he tells her and hugs her again, kisses the top of Deana's head, inhaling her sweet scent, then bends to hug Malachi.

He stands to trade places with his new husband. Hugging John and Sam, accepting their welcome into the family.

“Thank you everyone, I hope you can all forgive us.” Castiel tells the mass of well wishers.

“Ah, maybe if you name your first born after me I’ll think about it.” John says as he slaps Castiel on the shoulder.  He hugs his new son in law again as Dean continues.

“Our friend Mick here has graciously provided us with a delicious meal." He places a hand on Mick's shoulder and squeezes.  "I'd suggest each of you check out his new dining establishment, “ _Davies Pub Delights_.  You won't be disappointed.  I also want to thank his wife, Erica, for capturing our memories on film and making our Wedding cake, which I may or may not pull out of the house where it's been hiding,” he says with a smirk.  “Please, everyone, head up to the deck and eat!”

As Dean looks over the crowd, he's in complete awe of his life.  The press of his new jewelry on his left finger giving him comfort.

Captain Turner is sitting at one of the many tables throughout the yard, laughing loudly at a story Pamela is telling him.  Meg and Fetch are getting a personal tour by Malachi of his newly completed treehouse. Eileen is handing Deana off to the eager hands of Benny. 

His new partner, Fergus Crowley, is chatting with Mick and Erica over full plates. Dean limited the teasing over the dart gun encounter to their first week on patrol together.  The seasoned officer took it all in stride, knowing that was Dean’s way of making sure he knew it could've happened to any of them.

The memory of his first day back to work, at the start of the new year, brings a flush to Dean’s cheeks.  When Castiel first caught sight of him in uniform, it took every ounce of self-restraint for him to leave the house.  That night, he was welcomed home to Castiel spread out on their bed, not a stitch of clothing, worked open and waiting for him.  Out of respect for the uniform, he removed his own clothes before fucking Castiel into the mattress.

“Dean.” 

Dean jumps as Castiel’s warm breath brushes over his cheek.  “I need to see you in my office, Dean.” He grips at Dean’s hand, tugging him towards the house.

Dean feels a bit of concern creep in as he looks at his new husband.  His face is flush and his voice is strained.

“Yeah, ok Babe.”  He nods at a few people as Castiel leads them around to the front of the house, through the front door and down the hall to the first spare bedroom. Despite being the home of Castiel's Accounting and consulting business, it's still fairly empty. Next to the desk that now holds a computer, is a tall file cabinet. The walls are still white but at least they now they are adorned with framed family photos, his college degree and various certifications. 

Castiel pulls him through the door and tells him to lock it as he lets go of Dean’s hand.  Ignoring his ever-increasing concern, he follows his husband’s instructions.  “Cas, what's going o- oh wow.” Dean almost trips on his own feet at the sight before him.

In the amount of time it took Dean to lock the door, Castiel has shed his cargo shorts and boxers.  He's seated on his sturdy oak desk, legs spread wide.  One hand gripping the edge the desk while the other strokes his hard cock.

“What the- Cas…”

“I just couldn’t hold out anymore.  Fuck, Dean, the moment you put this ring on my finger…” his eyes close as his hand slides over the head of his cock.

Dean licks his lips as he watches his husband smear precome down his length. He lets out a groan and unzips his own shorts, pulling his rapidly filling cock out of his boxer briefs.  “Oh Cas, don’t stop.”  He steps into the space between Castiel’s dangling calves.  Slowly stroking himself, Dean tells him, “I want to watch you. You look so fucking hot splayed out your desk.”

“Oh Dean, keep talking.” Cas’s head drops back as he rolls his hips, fucking up into his fist.

Dean leans in close. “It's a shame that I alone will ever be the one to witness this, my sexy Angel.  My husband,” he pauses when Castiel shivers and lets out a gasp, “oh I know how much my husband likes it when I talk dirty to him.”

“Dean, Dean touch me.”

“Oh, I’m not ready for this to be over yet.”  His own hand quickens its pace the louder Castiel’s panting gets.

“Dean, please, I’m right there. I just want to feel your skin on mine.”

Dean lets go of himself and cups the back of Cas’s neck, touching their foreheads together.  “So hot, Baby. Show me how good that feels.”

“Oh God, DeanDeanDean,” he chants until the tip of his tongue is captured between his teeth, his breathing coming out in short pants.

Dean takes his cue and drops down without warning and swallows Castiel down all the way to the back of his throat, sucking hard as he goes.

Castiel’s hand flies from his dick into Dean’s hair, grasping tightly as he comes hard on a loud cry of “Dean!”

Dean’s hand returns to his own cock as he swallows every drop down. He licks his way back up Castiel's length, not wanting to miss any.  “You taste so fucking good, Angel.”

“Dean, call me that again.”  He pulls Dean to his feet, slides off the desk and pushes him up against the wall, capturing his mouth and pushing his tongue in deep.  The taste of his own come still lingering.  He grinds up against Dean.  The back of Dean’s moving fist brushing against him. “Call me that again.”

“Oh, look at that, my _husband_ is still hard for me.”  Now it’s Dean’s turn to moan as Cas drops to his knees.

He pushes Dean’s hand away and licks from base to tip.  Dean gasps as he watches those puffy pink lips envelope his dick. His fingers thread through Castiel’s hair but he doesn’t pull, he loves the way his thick locks feel in his hands.

Castiel lets out a long, low moan and Dean loses it.  Castiel grips his covered ass and pulls him in tight as Dean’s cock pulses between his lips. Castiel pulls off and Dean drops to his knees, pulling Castiel in close, kissing him again. “Cas,” he nips at his husband’s bottom lip. “Cas, don’t hold out on me, I know you have another one _right there_ , just waiting.  Castiel’s eyes fall close as Dean reaches down to fondle at his sac. He nods weakly and resumes his stroking. 

Dean brings his mouth close to Cas’ ear.  “Cas…ti….el, give it to me,” he drags his name out long and low. 

Cas’s head drops to Dean’s chest, letting out another cry as the second orgasm overtakes him. His body jerks from the overstimulation, this time around his pulses are dry.

Both men slump against the wall as the aftershocks fade.  Dean wipes at Cas’s sweaty brow.  “Well,” he says still breathless, “I'd say that was a fabulous preview of our wedding night.”

Castiel, feeling utterly boneless, reaches for his boxers and shorts.  “I know that was rather rude of me to abandon our guests that way but I just couldn’t control myself.”

“You don’t hear me complaining, do you?”  He stands and tucks himself into his boxer briefs then offers his hand to Castiel.

“I see you're wearing my gift,” he gestures to Dean’s groin, the face of a grizzly bear disappearing behind the zipper.

“Most comfortable thing I've ever worn.”  He waits until Castiel finishes getting dressed. “Well that is, aside from you, of course.”  

Cas cups Dean’s face. “You are insatiable,” he grins.

Dean’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, making Cas giggle, “Me?!?  I've never came twice in a matter of minutes! And also,” he adds leaning in for a kiss, “always for you and only for you,” echoing the statement he's made countless times.

 

Only a few people raise their eyebrows at them as they rejoin the party but several, including Sam and Mick, slap them on the back and smirk.  “Couldn’t wait for the wedding night, could you?” Sam says.

“Can’t say I blame them.” Meg says as she walks by, not even breaking stride or looking at any of the men gathered.

Dean tries to swat at her behind but she's too quick.

"You know what would be great on that big screen in your theatre?" Mick says in a hushed voice, eyebrows bouncing.

"Don't think we haven't already talked about that, my friend." Castiel snickers.

Dean eyes Ellen dropping her phone into the speaker ba., “What's a wedding without a first dance?” she asks the crowd.

“No, I think we can skip that.  We still need to cut the cake.” Dean tells her, hand waving in front of him.

“The cake can wait.” Castiel walks to the phone, picks it up, types and swipes a few times then turns up the volume on the speaker.  “I want to dance with my husband.”  He holds his hand out to Dean, palm out.

As their family surrounds the newlyweds in a tight circle, Dean accepts his husband's hand.  Their intertwined hands coil together, pressed tightly between their chests. Their long legs slotted perfectly as if their bodies were cast from the same mold.

“I could spend my life in this sweet surrender.  I could stay lost in this moment forever.  Every moment spent with you, is a moment I treasure.” Dean sings to Castiel.

The sounds of the people around them fade away as they press their foreheads together.

“Thanks for letting me lead again, Angel.”

_I don’t want to miss one smile, I don’t want to miss one kiss.  I just want to be with you, right here with you. Just like this._

“Dean, I will follow wherever you want to lead me.  I love you.”

As they kiss sweetly, Sam leads Eileen out to dance as Donna sits with Malachi and Deana.  Bobby, Ellen, Mick and Erica join in as they all sway to the music.

“I love you too, Castiel. My husband, my love, my heart. Who knew a little undercover work would lead to the love of my life?"

_I just want to hold you close. Feel your heart so close to mine and just stay here in this moment for all the rest of time…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank for sticking with me to the end. This has been a labor of pure love for me. It turned out a bit fluffier then I had planned and there were several parts that I did not see coming.  
> I can hear my Sam and Briana stories calling to me, I have neglected them long enough BUT, I do have a timestamp for this already in mind. Something with one....or three kids :-).
> 
> I took an ASL course in college but that was many moons ago. Please let me know if anything is inaccurate or if anything is offensive. I have nothing but love for Eileen and I wanted to do her justice. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left me love, it truly motivated me to write faster.
> 
> Come say Hi on Twitter @lydrewsmom or on Tumblr Loudenswainfangirl
> 
> I truly LTTU!!
> 
> Michelle

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, I need the motivation!
> 
> Look me up on twitter @lydrewsmom or Tumblr LoudenSwainfangirl
> 
> LTTU!


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